Chrono Trigger
by savagejack
Summary: Beneath the earth, Lavos, a creature of fire, conspires to rise from the ground and lay waste to all in its path. Doomsday will occur in the year 1999, and the mission of Crono Zenan, a youth from 1000 A.D., becomes clear: To travel across the ages to change the course of history and prevent Lavos from succeeding in its dark plan.
1. Chapter 1

1999 A.D.—The Day of Lavos

Hidden miles beneath surface life where sunlight never reached, it waited. Where neither wind blew, nor rain fell, nor life endured, it slept within the planet's heart. As centuries passed amidst the enthroning shadows, it dreamed every moment of its attack. The slithering pipes from this grim and solitary parasite siphoned life from the earth like veins that stole blood, and its black tendrils greedily drank every living aliment.

Vibrations of its presence resonated through the soil as it sluggishly drained life from bodies of water, even the ocean and all life beyond. Already it surged with nutriments taking root within, and its power grew with the dawn of each day. The humans inhabiting the planet remained tragically unaware. The time has come, it thought. But suddenly the creature stopped funneling, and uncertainly froze as a strange intruder somehow penetrated the lair it established long ago.

For the first time in centuries, the creature stirred from its resting place. A single maddening eye snapped open in outrage to behold a sharp metal point that bore a hole through its stone wall, then a giant rotating screw that shattered its domain. The creature glared as a boy with flame-red hair came to stand before it. This tiny speck of mortality challenges me? He arrives too late. The earth bends before my power. But first, I will deal with him!

"What's going on out there?" the general roared as he stormed into the command center.

The huge, sparsely furnished structure with several entries on each side held broad desks and large double-paned windows that gleamed in the faint light. Doors opened by sliding into walls, and pillars rose up from the tiled floors to support the ceiling. Backed against the polished chamber, monitors dimly blinked blue, and displayed men, women and humanoid robots patrolling the base. Some rode in jeeps. Others marched along the gravel roadways near the training grounds. A few policed the gates whose signs read "Authorized Personnel Only." Within the domed steel structure, the soldiers stood at attention. The metallic sheen of their silver uniforms shimmered in smooth contrast with the computer lights of the headquarters.

"Sir!" Hector, a principal scientist, civil engineer and firearms designer, stood up from his computer desk. "We don't know exactly what it is, General. Our seismographs have detected a series of unnatural earthquakes. They erupt infrequently, in different areas across the world. Each measures stronger than the last and then sometimes they vibrate all at once. They seem to come in a pattern and I believe our area will be next. It's as if something in the ground causes the tremblers, something we cannot identify."

The stunned general studied Hector. "The earthquakes . . . do you have any other data? Leave out nothing, Hector."

The younger man faced him grimly. "Call me crazy, Sir, but I believe the earthquakes are being caused by a cre—"

"General!" The sliding doors opened to admit a soldier with disheveled hair. His eyes flashed wide in terror, and his entire body shook as he rushed from the faint afternoon sunlight into the metallic interior. He disregarded the customary salute. "Sir, Truce City's under attack! What are your orders?"

"Who's attacking us?" the general sharply snapped as he wheeled around in outrage.

The panting soldier uncertainly shook his head. "Their identity has not yet been confirmed, Sir. But buildings have already fallen from upheavals and irregular tremors destroy the land at every turn. Sections of the surrounding countryside have ruptured, some parts of the city. The attacks seem to occur from under the ground. It's as if the devil rises."

"What's happening!" the general shouted, then angrily turned away from his men. He shifted his attention to surveillance screens that monitored every major area in the city. The soldiers joined him and stared in deathly silence as the downtown shopping center crumbled into the broken concrete. On another screen, the citizens that lined the streets of Truce City watched in stark horror as a mastodonic vessel, fifteen miles wide and twenty-four kilometers high, sundered the earth in fissures as it torpidly ascended from the depths. The surface ground shattered in seconds as the nameless shadow rose from the land and buried alive the residents under the depths from whence it crawled. Ringed by fire and black spikes, the monster blocked away the sun, and hauled with it the scent of aromatic death. Poison filled the air and leached the very breath from those consumed in its wake. Skyscrapers, stores, homes and warehouses shook violently between tremors and fell to ruin as the creature broke through the earth and catapulted several large boulders into the heavens. A unit of soldiers that carried several firearms and heavy artillery began to fire missiles at the creature. But the monitors had shown it came from the earth, and the general suspected if the heat of the world's core did not harm the beast, then weapons would not stop it.

In a hailstorm of fire, huge dark rocks vehemently plunged downward from several hundred feet in the sky, then rended the earth and split the sea. Waves of fiery crimson and coal black crushed and seared thousands of people beneath. The nightmare that spawned from the blackest pits of the netherworld destroyed the totality of Truce City and several countries on the same continent. In a single day, doom reached all across the Eastern Sea and the lands beyond the horizon. Landscapes rattled, the skies hazed into gray, and the world began to end. The military base shuddered, and a headlong explosion shattered new cracks in the walls and pillars each time the headquarters shook. The world beneath mankind's feet ceaselessly rumbled.

"We're hit!" the soldiers screamed. A moment later, the ferocity of a detonation ruptured everyone's hearing. Deafness struck them all, and blood leaked from their ears and dripped to the floor to hotly steam as the temperature in the room steadily increased. For them, life turned deathly quiet. And under the shadow of Lavos, the northern isles collapsed.

The general hopelessly stared into the ruin as his own body buffeted. Furniture and wooden desks caught fire, and flames burned and hungrily spread. In the heated glow of the firelight, sweat poured from the general's face as he gawked and tried to fathom what he saw.

"Everyone underground!" Hector sharply ordered, then gestured as he ran for the securing airlocks that led into an underground bomb shelter. Because no one could hear him, he beckoned and flailed his arms in the flickering crimson light of the fire alarms. Even though their bodies uncontrollably shook, several men and women retreated for shelter. An explosion lit the sky, and the lights in the headquarters rapidly blinked before going out.

"Sir, are you all right?" yelled Hector as he turned back for his commander and friend, who stood as if frozen on the other side of the wall of flames. The general glanced at Hector just as huge chunks of the ceiling broke apart and crashed to the floor. When the floor buckled, Hector lost his balance but caught himself against a doorway. "General, come with me!" he screamed, and tried to reach across the rubble. "We have to get out! We've lost the city! We must seek shelter!" But the general could not hear him. To the general, the world seemed only a silent dream from which the aged veteran knew he would not wake. He had fought many wars in his time, but death proved an inescapable hunter. He knew it was over.

"What's wrong, Sir?" Hector asked as his eyebrows knit in confusion. "Tell me, Sir. What is it?"

"The end." The general spoke his last words, for even as he drew his next breath and Hector tried to respond, the ceiling caved in and the entire weight of the building collapsed upon them.

After the initial attack, the spiked entity known as Lavos carried the bodies of the dead back down to the depths with him as he continued to eat away at the planet from within. The world of green forests, blue oceans and silver rivers became a gray chunk of rock that mirrored the cold emptiness of Lavos' grim design. This day, every waking found the path to eternal rest. But what if this future could in fact be changed?

Chapter I—The Millennial Fair

Sunlight slowly descended below the mountains west of Guardia, and formed soft shadowed pools that lengthened across the festival grounds. From the Eastern Sea, cool wind blew and brushed the valley floor. And within a grassy bowl ringed with low hills, Crono Zenan, Nadia and Fritz elbowed their way through a dense crowd that agitated before a wide stage. Steps leading up at its right side, the makeshift platform of rough wood stood only four feet off the ground, and had been constructed specifically for the fair. In the exact center of the stage, two tall objects hid under separate tarps. To the left, a heavy curtain flowed down from its own stand. To the right, beyond the steps, sat a heavy desk covered in gadgets. A gathering of trees and then the darkening sky backdropped the stage.

Crono, tall, solid and roguishly handsome with long red hair and mischievous green eyes, used his arms and size to open a path within the crowd in the direction of the stage steps. Nadia, mostly hidden beneath a dark hooded robe, and Fritz, lanky and blonde, followed behind.

Crono turned his head so his allies could hear. "Come on, guys. Let's get up there. As friends of the inventor, we deserve more than a seat in the back!"

As they passed through, they overheard some of the talk from the crowd. "I'm glad the boy displays this at night, because when it explodes into the sky, it'll look even more spectacular!" "At least we won't miss any fireworks!"

"Yeah, this will sure be one of the great failures of a lifetime. That boy Luca makes quite the character. The best clown this town's ever seen!"

Crono's eyes darkly fixed on the last commentator for insulting his best friend. Luca's ten times smarter than you, he wanted to shout, but thought better of starting a fight in this excited crowd. Instead he barreled on toward the stage.

When the trio arrived within feet of their goal, a burly man reacted to Crono's push by shouting, "Hey, no shoving!" He then propelled Crono back in the direction from which he came and almost toppled Nadia and Fritz in the process. Crono recovered, then instinctively made a fist and aimed it at the man's head, but a voice stopped him.

"Hey!" Everything quieted as a boy appeared from behind the curtain. Luca Devir slowly approached the crowd. Darker than falling night, long black hair fell away from his face, and his eyes flickered the color of lake water. He wore dark jeans, an unzipped leather jacket, and a silver cross necklace that shimmered in the moonlight. A strapped backpack and tool belt seemed welded to his body. He stepped up and pointed a screwdriver at the large man. "Nobody tells Crono what to do but me! As I failed to address in the forms I left in everyone's mailbox, I need Crono, my assistant, for the test run." Luca seemed undaunted by the man's three-times-larger size. "Might I suggest expressing a bit more enthusiasm for the little guy? Now that he's finally arrived, we can get this test underway."

Crono knew everyone liked Luca, even riled up, and the burly man's eyes softened. He didn't appear mad despite some shrimp poking him in the gut with a pointed tool.

"I apologize," the man stated. "I thought he tried to cut in line."

"It's all right," Luca smiled. "Tonight should be interesting for our little hamster." Luca winked in Crono's direction.

Crono sighed. "So you lied to my mom and told her you wanted to show me the invention and now you expect me to—what—ride inside it?"

Luca carefully studied his friend. "I didn't lie to anyone. I simply requested your presence at sundown. In any case, it will all be over soon. Come this way."

Crono awoke that day to his mother's smiling face and amber hair caught in a fragment of light. Even in their faraway farmhouse, Crono could clearly make out the ringing of Leene's Bell. In the north from Town Square, it echoed all across Guardia Kingdom. Songbirds twittered outside the open window, where forest leaves sparkled in their coat of silver dew as the new day took shape.

But the uncaring Crono closed his eyes, and fell back asleep.

"Wake up, Crono," his mother said. She received only a grunt in response. Crono turned over and covered himself in his blankets. Rhea caressed her son's hair. Then Crono felt the bed rise as Rhea arose, and heard the shuffle of her slippers across the hardwood floors. He suddenly groaned as she opened the curtain to admit the morning light, and a sharp wind extinguished her candle flame. "Ah, Leene's song wakes me up everyday."

Crono yawned and leaned partway up on his elbows. "Sounds more to me like a kid banging on pots and pans. Can I go back to sleep now? That bell's an annoyance."

"That bell, as you so respectfully call it, reminds everyone of our history, and gives thanks to the heroes who died fighting to save Queen Leene four hundred years ago. Because of Queen Leene, Guardia Kingdom still stands."

"A dimwitted forest imp knows when the sun rises, Mom."

Rhea held up a finger. "But King Guardia's law states that all people must rise when the sun does."

Crono responded by thoroughly nestling himself under his covers.

"In your excitement about the Millennial Fair, you didn't sleep well, did you? Well, that's all right. You can just sleep all day while I go enjoy myself. I might bring you back a balloon."

Crono shot up and tossed his blankets to the floor. "The fair! I forgot!"

Rhea smiled. "It's New Year's Day, January 1, 1000 A.D."

"The New Millennium," Crono whispered as his eyes fixed beyond the timbered acres to the horizon outside his window.

After his mother left to make breakfast, Crono quickly exercised, showered and dressed in a black tunic with matching pants. He then covered those with a deep blue robe his father once wore and tied a leather belt to hold his weapon. Crono rummaged around on his desk—cluttered with maps used to find and kill the orcs and imps who raided farms and stole crops—for his money pouch.

Then he lifted his wooden sword from the wall, sheathed it at his hip and headed downstairs.

Their dining area boasted clean tabletops, baskets of wildflowers and fruit. Light poured in through windows curtained with bright cloth. Across the room, a low fire crinkled in the great hearth. The mother and son sat down to breakfast together, Crono hurriedly, but Rhea slowly sinking to her chair and folding her slender hands on the table.

"It's almost your birthday," she said as if to herself. "Soon you'll be eighteen. Then you can join the . . ." She choked on the next word, and couldn't say it. She instead reached across the table and placed her hand over Crono's. "Are you sure you want to be a knight?"

Crono stopped eating and met his mother's eyes. "I'm sure, Mom." His words hung in the air. Light from the dying embers flickered across the walls, and the tinkle of utensils went quiet for a moment.

Crono remembered that last day with his father ten years earlier, when they camped in Darkwood Forest. There Rhodri Zenan, a knight of Guardia and weapons master, taught his son survival skills every season. One dark morning, a dozen savage orcs and imps stumbled upon them in the forest and attacked when light faintly shone and sleep heavily lay in their eyes. Crono would never forget the creatures' slime-green scales, crimson eyes and horned helmets. He could still hear the evil in their gritty voices when they charged through the morning gloom with giant rusty swords.

Rhodri attempted fighting them off by shielding Crono between himself and a great tree. He killed most, but the onrush of enemies could not be turned, even by a weapons master. The beasts kept advancing, and quickly filled in the gaps that the swordsman made in his slaughter. When an entirely new squad stumbled toward them, Rhodri knew they must flee.

Wounded and drawing on the last of his failing strength, Rhodri clutched Crono to him and ran as far and fast as he could. With distance between himself and his attackers, he fell to the ground in a small grove. He clenched Crono to him, then placed his sword in his son's hands. "Fight them, Crono. You must live."

Crono held his father's head as death claimed him, but Rhodri's words awoke a power in his son he had never imagined. An explosive wave of anger erupted from Crono's heart. The torment of his father's death reinforced a sudden killing frenzy. With the sword in his hands, he thirsted for vengeance. His green eyes turned venomous and drained of all mercy and fear. When the demons assailed him in the grove, he cut down four orcs and six forest imps. In the storm of his fighting fury, he sliced into their hearts, hacked off their heads, and ended their wretched lives.

Later rumors sprouted, half whispered in taverns by village men over glasses of cold ale, that the blade had not been forged that could kill Crono Zenan. Some even boldly regarded him as the reincarnation of Lord Cyrus, a legendary knight who lived in the time of Queen Leene.

As he hiked home to Guardia to tell his mother the wrenching news, Crono vowed to become a knight and great swordsman like his father. That's why Crono always carried a sword with him. Someday, he knew, he would replace his wooden blade with a real one.

"Oh, Crono, I almost forgot!" Rhea exclaimed as she bolted up from the table. "Earlier this morning, Luca stopped by. He wants you to check out an invention he's setting up at the festival. He'll present it at sundown, so make sure you go see it."

"Okay. Thanks, Mom." Crono arose then, reached for his aleskin from a shelf and headed for the door.

His mother met him there. "Here. Hold out your hands. I have a gift for you." When she smiled, her face lit up. Crono made his palms into a cup and Rhea poured two hundred drakes there, the small gold coins tinkling as they fell. Then his mother hugged him.

"I love you, Crono," she said. "You're going to be a great knight. I'm so proud of you for avenging your father. Have a great day at the festival. I'll arrive in the evening to watch the fireworks, okay?"

Crono hugged her back. "You're the best mom in the world. You deserve to have an honorable knight for a son." He set the coins on a table, pulled out his leather pouch, and flicked the drakes into it. But his thoughts remained occupied by what awaited him at nightfall. Nightfall. The word reverberated in Crono's thoughts. In that hour, Luca Devir would uncover his newest invention.

Crono, Nadia and Fritz cleared a path to the steps of the stage and climbed up. They followed Luca to the curtain on the far side and disappeared behind it. Once there, Luca grinned and glanced at Crono. "Glad to see you made it, punk head."

Crono chuckled. "What, alive? That crowd is vicious."

"No fun getting tangled up in that war zone. Luckily, I came to save you from our little friend back there. You can thank me later."

"So what did you invent anyway?" Fritz asked. "Does it sit under that tarp on the stage?"

Luca nodded yes, then peeked out from the curtain to view his creation at the center of the wide platform. "Yep, that's my baby. But you'll have to wait like everyone else." Suddenly he turned and glared at Crono. "So I heard you destroyed my Battle Trainer." He shook his head in disgust. "That's really nice, Crono. I appreciate you breaking the one thing that worked after I spent months developing it."

Crono first learned of Battle Trainer's readiness earlier from the old man under the tree.

Crono's friend Fritz, a tall slender blonde who liked dressing in ponchos, had given Crono a ride in a horse-drawn wagon that also hauled merchandise to the event. Now Crono approached the gate marking the fair entrance. There, an ancient man sat cross-legged and completely still in the shade of a hickory. He wore a threadbare gray-brown robe over his tunic and pants.

Crono glanced back at Fritz, who still sat in the wagon. "That crazy old man owns the fair?" he asked.

"Don't misjudge him, friend. He's sharp and very mysterious. Some say he's not even human." Fritz nodded. "I'll see you later tonight, Crono." He waved and drove off in the direction of his father's tent.

As Crono neared Old Man Melchior, he noted eyes as gray and petrified as stone that seemed somehow hardened by decades of study. He possessed a long hoary beard so thick that not even the outer hairs waved in the breeze. Thin white scars of battles fought and survived traced his wrinkled skin. Crono knew that only this old man could defeat the legendary knight Cyrus. Melchior held the title of weapons master just as Crono's father had. In front of him, a collection of beautiful swords, flawless and untouched by time, glistened on a quilt covered in strange markings.

"Excuse me, Sir, do you charge admission fees?"

"Aye, that I do, me lad," the old man replied. "But seein thatch yer eyes mark yer such a fine young man, I be lettin' you go in fer free."

Crono hesitated. "Wow. Seriously? I don't have to pay?"

The old man impatiently raised his hand as if he might slap Crono. "Not if ye don't shut up and keep yer voice down, lad!"

Crono brought his hand to his mouth. "Sorry."

The man grabbed a pipe and leaned back to study Crono as he smoked. "Aye, but ye'll definitely be wantin' to earn yerself some Silver Points for the fair, me lad."

"Silver Points?"

The aged fighter scratched his beard. "Where did I buy this pipeweed's the question! Tobacco from God's garden, I say!" He glanced at Crono as if noticing him for the first time. Then he continued. "Ye can bet on the races, chug soda and fight that crazy Luca feller's Battle Trainer. But I would not suggest a fight on one so young as ye."

"Wait. Luca finished the Battle Trainer?"

"Aye, that he has, dear boy! A fine piece o' work that chunk of metal! Could tear a full grown man from his limbs, it could!"

Crono grinned. "I want to fight the Battle Trainer."

The ancient warrior chuckled. "Indeed, many a few young folk might, little fellow," he said, even though Crono doubled the man in size. "But as yer elder, I warn ye not to fight such a beast."

"You should warn the Battle Trainer."

The weapons master set down his pipe and studied the youth. "Fighting mindless orcs and imps doesn't make ye invincible, lad. A hero's strength runs deeper than brawn. The Battle Trainer is a deadly machine. It boasts fists of metal and no heart. It could break ye in two. I see that ye don't even have a weapon to . . ." The elder paused as Crono withdrew his wooden sword.

The aged man shook his head. "Dagnabit, boy, I said it's dangerous! That piece o' crap won't harm any machine! Even a steel blade does little! I speak this not from doubt, but concern, lad."

Crono peered into the man's eyes. "I'm not afraid of anything. This challenge will make me stronger."

The old man shrugged and waved his hand to dismiss the boy. "Well then, have a blast! I'm done speaking with ye insane children."

Crono smiled. "It's funny you tell me to avoid danger when you're covered in scars. I bet you didn't listen, either." He stepped closer. "I know all your stories. You handle swords as if they're attached to you. I want that skill. Will you teach me?"

The old man chose his words carefully. "We weapons masters, when we die, leave dark memories that mark our way. We live apart and die alone. It's not a path I wish ye to take. I will never again train another man to kill. My last student met with a sorry fate."

"Well, then, fight me. Let me prove my worth. I will become a knight one day. If I learn from you first, maybe it will save me from that same demise."

The elder man's eyes darkened. "Ye play with fire, Zenan. Don't push yer limits. Fight a battle with me and ye'll not wish to fight again."

Crono slowly sheathed his sword. "Would you bet one of your swords I won't beat the Battle Trainer?"

The old man chuckled. "Courage in youth faded a long time ago. I thrill to find bravery again. Perhaps death never sapped the courage of Lord Cyrus."

"Do you know of him?"

"Aye, long before yer time, lad. Few men today remember the greatest knight ever to walk the Land of Guardia. I trained him as a child. When I look at ye, I remember him."

The stunned Crono stared and wondered about the rumors. Did this man really train Cyrus four hundred years earlier?

"A shame ye weren't alive to fight the armies of Magus four centuries ago," the man continued.

Crono seated himself at the edge of the quilt. "What else do you know?"

"The wars are legend. With Guardia's armies nearly defeated at Zenan Bridge, Queen Leene foretold that an alliance of men and women would come from the mountain north, out of a blue dawn, and rally the knights and soldiers of this land to victory." The old man set his pipe on a nearby tree stump. "Here, lad, I'm going to show ye something." He removed an old blanket from his belongings behind him, unfolded the fabric and uncovered a broken sword. Despite the weapon's shattered edge, its sheen brightly glowed in the shade. It appeared centuries old. On the blade's surface Crono made out the word Masa.

"All that remains of the shattered blade of legend, the Masamune. During the battle that took place right here in this field, a hero chosen by this blade crossed Zenan Bridge. He journeyed straight into the heart of Magus' castle and single-handedly rid Guardia of the Dark Lord and his demon spawn forever."

"So where's the rest of the sword?"

The old man glanced into the trees. "Ye know, I've searched many years. I never found it." He sheathed the blade once more. "Nobody really knows what happened to Magus. No one ever found his body in the ruins of his castle after the Black Fortress cracked. The people fear and mystics pray that Magus will one day return, so humans never mention his name. It's all nonsense! Turns Magus into a bogeyman for the kids. But one thing's true. Even four hundred years after the war, ye can still hear his name echoed from the caves where the Black Fortress once stood. Magus, Magus. It sounds like snakes chanting."

"I want people to remember me as they do Cyrus."

The old man grinned. "Ah yes, I would not concern myself with that, dear boy. Not many lads yer age walk up to this tree and threaten to beat me old face in!"

Crono stood. "If you'll excuse me, I've got some death to defy. The Battle Trainer's not going to defeat itself. Sure you don't want to bet one of those swords?"

Suddenly the old man turned irate. "Now, yer sure you don't want a broken wrist if you don't get away from me tree in about ten seconds? Shoo, lad! Go on. Come back in the future!"

Confused, Crono turned to leave, then looked back and waved goodbye. The weapons master watched him go for a long time as he sensed a familiar strength in the boy. "Something different about that one," the elder whispered. "I can feel it."

"You build a machine meant for combat and expect it not to get damaged?" Crono asked Luca as they stood behind the curtain on the stage.

"Combat? You mean shattering Gato's chest with your sword and then prying off his head to parade it in front of the crowd? No, I call that obliteration." Luca glanced over at Nadia. "And who might you be?"

"Oh, I'm sorry," Crono stepped in. "This is Nadia."

Luca offered his hand in greeting. Then he both removed and replaced his glasses to focus on Nadia more clearly. "I've seen you before. Somewhere, I could have sworn you . . . I think guards asked about you."

Nadia cleared her throat and quickly changed the subject. "Crono and I bumped into each other earlier this morning right under Leene's Bell. Funny story."

After Crono passed through the fair's gate and onto the grounds, a strong breeze blew out of the barren mountain pass and whisked the green forest canopy beneath the expanse of azure sky. The trail that led into the festival followed the Zaida River. A menagerie of color beneath the sweeping shadow of the great hills, the fair extended the length and breadth of the base of Kelvenforge Mountain.

Crono, still thinking about Luca's Battle Trainer, followed the road as quickly as he could, and barely noticed all the bustle around him. Merchants behind the vibrant-colored stalls in pitched tents, laid out in a grid pattern on the valley floor, sold snacks and trinkets. Giant balloons floated into the sky. Children laughed. Vendors cooked meat on their iron grills. Beyond the stalls, participants played every kind of game. The scents of fried snacks and candies and sounds of festive music from performers on a stage saturated the air.

Luca built a fighting robot, Crono pondered and felt proud of his best friend but also disgusted as he envisioned Luca's gloating. He increased his pace, rushed across stone intersections, and darted past brightly colored tent flaps onto a wide lawn.

Then bam! He collided with something so suddenly that he hit the ground like a rock. "What the?" He leaned up on his elbows and glanced over at the most stunning girl he had ever seen. She also leaned up and rubbed the back of her head. Her eyes twinkled like sapphires beneath a dark pond. Long waist-length hair shimmered down in strands of gold, even brighter against her dark robe.

"Hey! Watch where you're going!" she exclaimed, then noticed her hood had fallen off. She hastily reached back to replace it, stuffed her hair back in, and pulled the sides closed to half shroud her face.

Crono stood and strode over to her, and offered her his hand.

Just then the bell of Queen Leene started ringing as it echoed beyond the field and chimed seven across the Land of Guardia. It resounded so loudly that both Crono and the girl spasmed with it. They looked in the direction of the chime, and surprisingly discovered they'd landed right under Leene's Bell. Humans and mystics alike occasionally passed by and admired the beautiful landmark.

"Are you all right, Miss?" Crono asked her.

She reluctantly took his hand and Crono lifted her to eye level. Then she quickly reclaimed her hand and used it to dust off her brown robe.

"I'm fine. I was heading to the races when . . ." Her hand stopped at the middle of her chest. "My pendant!" she shrieked, then inspected the ground and dropped down to crawl over it. She glanced up at Crono. "It must have fallen off when you bumped into me!" She bit off the words one by one and widened her eyes as if to say Crono should look, too.

He joined her on the ground and soon spotted, a few feet away, a solitary and beautiful sterling silver necklace. A radiant gemstone shone brightly amid the cluster of smaller diamonds that lined the gem's depthless blue heart. Crono picked it up and carefully studied the sapphire.

"Ahem!" The girl, now standing again, interrupted him, and held out her palm for the pendant. "Thank you, Sir! My mother gave this to me before she died. It's my only remembrance of her."

Crono handed it over. "But how did it fall off your neck?"

The girl studied the pendant's chain. Solid and without a fastener, it looked whole. "How mysterious," she said as she slipped the necklace over her head.

"You're very welcome. So what's your name?"

"My name? Oh, I guess you can call me Nadia. And what do you call yourself?"

"Crono Zenan." He bowed slightly and turned to leave.

"Wait." She hesitated. "I'm kind of new here. Would you mind showing me around?"

"Sure," Crono said and offered her his arm.

"Ladies and gentleman!" Taban, Luca's father and manager, roared across the crowd. A sudden hush fell not only over the audience but across the festival doings. Torches lit the backdrop of ensuing night. "Prepare yourself for the greatest invention known to humankind! The magnum opus of my handsome son Luca!"

A moment of silence elapsed before Taban shot through the curtain. "Luca, get your goofy butt out here and entertain these folks! It's your invention, after all." With that, Taban returned to the cloaked appliances on the stage.

Luca apologized to Crono, Nadia and Fritz. "My dad's a little drunk. He won the drinking contest but didn't stop guzzling even after he received the prize. But don't mind him. He can still help with the machine."

Crono, the unwilling participant in most of Luca's experiments, did not find this reassuring.

When Nadia and Crono departed Leene's Bell earlier that day and headed in the direction of Battle Trainer, they passed through Town Square and across park pavilions where families spread out their picnic lunches. Most of the families, mystics, had green and blue skin with long pointed ears, and sharp feral eyes as bright as lanterns. The great roaring Zaida Falls spilled down beyond the festival's lush fields. In the east, storm clouds slowly took shape and hinted at darkness amid the sky's ocean of light. The haven of trees echoed distant buzzings and chirpings of forest life across the festival grounds.

"All right," Crono announced. "I'm trying to earn a lot of Silver Points."

"What for?" Nadia asked.

"I want to buy something, something I've desired for a long time."

"How do you plan to earn them?"

Crono grinned. "By doing what no one else has."

"And that is?"

Crono's eyes gleamed like chips of emerald glass. "The Battle Trainer, that's how! It's a machine built for combat. And it's the most difficult game at the festival. If I beat it, I can earn a ton of Silver Points!"

Nadia frowned. "It's very dangerous, Crono. I saw that terrible machine grind someone into meat when I arrived here today." She visibly flinched. "You wouldn't last five minutes in the ring with that monster."

Crono shrugged. "It doesn't matter what anyone thinks. When I fight the Battle Trainer, I'm going to . . ."

"Get your butt whooped?" As they followed the packed dirt road, lawns on either side, heavy footfalls broke the silence. Taban, a great grizzled bear of a man who dwarfed even Crono, closed in on them. He grinned as if about to eat them. "How many times do I gotta tell you, boy? You will never beat the Battler Trainer! You're tough as nails, kid, but even nails fall short when the hammer comes crashing down!" The burly man laughed as though telling the funniest joke in the world.

Crono's eyes wickedly twinkled. "Speaking of inventions, Nadia, do you want to know how Taban lost most of his hair?"

Taban's eyes darkened and Nadia frowned as if she expected the giant to pound Crono into oblivion. "No, she doesn't need to hear about that!"

"Yes, she does. A few months ago, Luca asked me to help him build a weather sensing device. Then Taban came along and altered the wiring behind our backs to 'improve it.' His plan backfired horribly and the machine blew up in his face."

Nadia smiled while Taban rubbed his hairless forehead. "Even now, I don't understand why I welcome you into my home."

Crono laughed. "Where is Luca, anyway?"

"You'll see him later tonight. And just for your little smart-mouth story, you'll be first in the machine, hamster boy!"

Crono sighed. Long ago he concluded where he belonged among the Devir family—inside a tube. Taban approached him slowly. "We've tested the Battle Trainer countless times against soldiers. Soldiers, boy! You can't beat it."

"That robot's going down, Taban. Someone's got to best it."

"You know what? Let's make this interesting. I'll bet you fifty drakes you won't last a minute in the ring."

"You're on!" Crono grinned as he shook Taban's mammoth hand.

"You've got the blood of an ox, Zenan," Taban offered as he marched off towards the woods. "See you at sundown!"

Nadia turned back to Crono as her eyes filled with worry. "So you really mean to fight the Battle Trainer? Despite all the knights it conquered?"

"Yes. All the more reason to."

Nadia removed her robe then and withdrew a beautiful silver longbow. "Then I will help you defeat it."

After Taban introduced his son, Luca stepped through the opening in the curtain to face the people of Guardia. The audience cheered. "Ladies and gentleman, children of all ages, and all the people who snuck into the festival without buying a ticket, I give you . . . The Telepod!" Luca pulled off the coverings, and revealed devices that glimmered silver and blue in the night's flood of stars. They consisted of two cylindrical chambers broad enough to fit three people. Ten-foot pillars of iron and steel had been crafted with a linked metal platform inside each pod. A thick blue sliding glass door formed the entrance to the device, which Luca controlled from a remote desk situated to the back of the stage. Fat cords ran from the rear of the Telepod to a great engine in which vibrant liquids swirled behind clear windows.

"And now," Luca continued, and drew the crowd's attention. "My glorious volunteer, Mr. Crono, will stand in the left pod and I will immediately transport him through thin air into the right pod!"

From behind the curtain, Crono froze.

"He can't be serious," Fritz blurted out.

Just then Crono realized he did want something more than he wanted a sword: He wanted to escape that night. Yet somehow he amassed enough courage to step through the curtain with the crowd cheering him on. Fritz and Nadia inconspicuously retreated to the side of the stage to watch.

Luca placed his hand on Crono's shoulder and grinned. "Tonight your life will change, my friend." He faced the audience. "All right, folks, a moment of silence, if you will. Hop into the left pod, Crono."

Crono inched over to the left pod and took a deep breath. Then he stepped into it. The glass door closed him in, airtight, yet he found he could still breathe. The machine emitted a sudden drone as though fierce wind blew through a canyon. Crono offered Luca a thumbs-up.

"Give me the juice, Pops!" Luca ordered as he sat down at the desk to operate the Telepod. The engine revved to deafening heights as the powerful motor dispensed its energy. A moment later, blue lightning flashed between one pod and the next. A storm of intense thrumming echoed across Leene's Square.

The astonished crowd gaped and instinctively stepped back. Luca's voice rose above the clamor as he became surrounded by an ocean of deafening storms and flashing lightning. "Power, give me more power!" Luca Devir screamed. His facial muscles grew taut and his eyes appeared almost white. The machine shook and lurched as everyone fixed on the boy with the red hair, who stood alone in the pod.

Earlier that day, Nadia and Crono, equipped with bow and arrows and wooden sword, followed a gravel path to the open doors of the stadium where Battle Trainer dismantled its opponents. They signed in with the doorman and paid the entrance fee, then entered the tall circular building, open to the sky, and slid in behind the excited crowd. Benches had been placed at regular intervals around the rough walls, but the audience, unruly and energized, mostly stood so they could yell, jostle each other and root for one or the other of the combatants. Crono found he could not lean against the wall and relax, but instead paced back and forth in the small area.

A heavy mixture of sweat and blood assailed their nostrils. Above the heads of the crowd they could make out a raised platform roped off to repel intruders.

Crono and Nadia watched a couple of hefty men haul out, on a stretcher, Battle Trainer's latest victim, a burly armored knight who seemed not breathing.

Then a voice echoed from the dais and the duo heard the doorman announce "two more victims for the Battle Trainer." A deafening roar erupted from the crowd at this announcement.

". . . Nadia and Crono!"

Crono and Nadia waved and smiled at the audience as they jogged up the narrow pathway kept open on either side by attendants. The crowd, well aware by now of their choice of winner, loudly booed. As the pair ducked under the rope and entered the ring, they noted thick drops of blood splashed across the floor and walls, some recent, some not. And there, on the far side of the platform, stood the robot. It loomed nearly twice Crono's height, with a cat-shaped head, front paws and tail, but had the wide torso and thick legs of a human. Lighting up in various colors, it sensed their approach and spoke in a high-pitched digital voice, barely discernible. Its electronic circuits spun in quick metallic pangs within its steel body.

Crono raised an eyebrow, and listened to the steady beat of drums emanating from the robot, then realized the robot spoke in rap.

"I am Gato, Battle Trainer of Luca! If you fight me, be prepared to puke-a! This is not a happy day! If you want to fight, just say okay!"

"Okay," replied Crono, amused but feeling ridiculous. "Figures Luca would put some stupid song in it."

The robot's drums thumped in a steady primitive pronouncement of war. "Battle sequence begins in five. You should run and hide." Crono slowly removed his sword from its sheath. Nadia grabbed an arrow from her quiver. "Four! You better head to the door!" Nadia and Crono shifted to allow more space between them. "We're down to three! Maybe you should flee!" Crono took a deep breath. "The number is two! Doom on you!" Nadia nocked an arrow into place. They heard their hearts pumping in their ears. "We're now to one! Won't this be fun?" Crono gripped his sword until his knuckles whitened. "Ready to go! And on with the show!"

Instantly the giant robot sprang to life, and its piercing metal eyes flared with dizzying light. Its thick iron body rocked the entire stadium. Crono didn't hesitate. He charged at the robot, brandished his sword and struck viciously. Inspired, Nadia upturned her longbow and fired an arrow at the metal behemoth. Then Gato suddenly began to steam as he attacked Crono. The lad tried to strike it down or turn it aside, but its overwhelming bulk proved greater as its cannonball-sized fists bashed Crono so hard he lost his breath. Flying backwards three yards, Crono rolled into a crumbled heap.

The onlookers gasped as the blue-robed youth hit the cold stone floor with a vicious slam. Everyone thought him defeated. Nadia stepped forward to fire a volley of arrows at the iron beast, then darted back and forth to evade its reach. A series of options whirred through Gato's programs so that it shrieked a horrifying sound that sliced knifelike to the bone. Nadia plugged her ears against the mind-grating pitch and lost her grip on her bow. Lights flashed as the robot closed in for its assault on Nadia. But a moment later, Crono shouted a war cry and struck the robot from behind. Gato wheeled around with blood-red eyes. The robot did not abandon its goal but raised high its ponderous hands, and aimed to strike down Nadia with one blow. The crowd gaped but remained silent as a grave. As Crono stepped between Nadia and the robot, he caught Gato's huge fists in his hands and halted its attack. Shouting once more, Crono smashed his forehead into the creature's metal torso. The robot buzzed sharply with disturbance and veered off balance.

"I knew you had only rocks in that head of yours, Crono!" Taban Devir cheered from the crowd. "Bring it down, boy! You got this!"

With Gato's network in crisis, Crono reached out his hand and helped Nadia back to her feet. But Gato advanced again! Crono clenched his teeth and pushed Nadia behind him, then fiercely gripped his blade as the red-eyed monster towered over them. As it descended, it snatched Crono's weapon and cast it to a corner of the ring. Grabbing hold of the large iron screws protruding from Gato's chest, Crono scrambled up to the metal face, and wrestled the behemoth to the ground in a violent heave of dust. Gato struggled with the ferocity of a tornado to pry off Crono as it spun impossibly fast to loosen his grip. The arena floors shattered into fragments and splintered huge sections of the surrounding walls.

The audience members tightly grasped their children and backed away from the ring. Nadia herself coughed as dust swept up and obscured her view of the fight. When the ring cleared, everyone in the stadium, even Taban Devir, stared in stunned disbelief. For Crono crushed the behemoth's head with his steel-like hands and powerful arms, which had reddened with the surge of blood, and forced it to the ground. Nobody moved. Heartbeats slowed as every person there stared mutely at Crono's unfathomable strength. The great metal being slowly crashed underneath him.

Crono held his ground, his deadened nerves untiring as his fighting spirit broke free and he kept Gato pinned. But from some hidden reservoir, the robot reanimated, swatted Crono to the side of the ring and attacked once more. Its gears whirled and clicked, and its motor pinged. Gato targeted Crono, who appeared as a vague outline of static and corrupt data, and charged toward him. Crono crumbled under Gato's unsettling gaze. He felt pain course through his body, and a dizzying flow of weariness slowed him down. He half-raised himself on one leg, and turned only to watch the metal fists of the robot slamming down.

Crono barely evaded this attack by ducking and sidestepping out of Gato's line of sight. Knuckles swollen and bloody, the boy lacked the strength to counterattack. Then Nadia cried out, and the sharp rage in her voice caused Gato to hesitate. In a blur of silver, she readied her longbow and drew arrows to it in the same swift movement. Nadia consecutively fired three arrows, and knocked the beast away with her missiles. As the light from its crimson eyes faded, Gato's torso flickered with zaps and buzzes.

The audience swelled as fair participants bought last-minute tickets to behold the undefeated robot breaking apart from the inside. But the crowd's disbelief turned to horror as Gato hotly radiated with its terrifying eyes locked on Crono, then it attacked in a frenzy. The red-haired youth rose to his feet with a grim smirk on his face. He dodged yet another strike by tricking the beast in a veer to the opposite side. The robot realized its fatal mistake, left with only enough time to watch as Crono regained his weapon and with it shredded the machine's backside. The wooden sword remained unbroken as it slit through the machine and thrust all the way through its chest.

Nadia sprang to action at once, and fired silver arrows from her longbow as Crono held Gato down once more. Gato sharply cracked into pieces and fell to the ground in heavy thuds, unmoving. The hush in the crowd grew into a roar that shook the festival site. Applause, whistles and stomping feet resounded from the onlookers as they cheered at Crono and his friend. Smiling roguishly, Crono rose to his feet, then triumphantly raised his free hand to dangle Gato's severed head. The audience roared louder with sudden laughter.

A mini form of Gato rolled out from a door in the stadium wall, approached Crono and Nadia, and stated, "You win! Round time 4 minutes and 34 seconds. Score 2000. Silver Points awarded 50." Then it spun around in a little dance and wheeled back to the chamber from whence it came.

The doorman jumped onto the stage, shook Crono's hand, and awarded him the fifty Silver Points. "Thank you, Sir," Crono said. "But I couldn't have done it without my friend." He glanced at Nadia where she stood at the stage edge. She grimaced when he mentioned her, then hooded herself and hid her longbow and quiver inside her robe once more.

On their way out of the stadium, onlookers continued to applaud, cheer, and pound Crono on the back. A couple women winked at Crono and sidled up to him, but Nadia quickly pulled him through the great open doors and back to the gravel path.

Outside, Taban waited as he leaned against the rough walls. "Descending from the battle ring to join us mere mortals, Crono? You did it, kid. I am simply humbled. Here's your fifty drakes." He handed over a bag bulging with coins.

Crono gazed at it. "I don't want your money. I just wanted to prove you wrong."

Taban scowled. "Dammit, kid! Take it! A bet's a bet." His voice softened. "Escort this young lady to a feast. You both deserve it."

Crono smiled then, bowed his head in thanks and took the bag.

"No way," Fritz said, more to himself than to Nadia as they stood to the side of the stage. Their eyes stayed glued to Crono inside the Telepod.

Nadia frowned and chewed her lower lip. She watched as a radiating silver-blue light descended upon the left pod, then ran up and down its sides before shooting several hundred feet into the sky. Crono braced himself, convinced the machine would explode and the glass shatter, Luca's usual safety considerations far from his mind. Then suddenly, Crono's muscles relaxed and a feather-light calm spread through his body. He felt a momentary brush of soft wind caress his skin in a warm flush of light which flooded through him, and then everything stopped. Even Luca and Taban froze.

When Crono opened his eyes, his view had changed. He no longer stood in the left pod. He stood in the right one.

"God in heaven," Taban whispered, suddenly sober. "It works! For the love of God, it works!" He roared with sudden laughter and rushed over to grab his son in a strong loving clench. "You're a freakin' genius, my boy! A genius!" Taban hoisted Luca and shook him. Then applause erupted from beyond the stage as the people of Truce shouted and cheered Luca's name.

After accepting Taban's fifty drakes, Crono continued with Nadia along the gravel path. With the Battle Trainer audience dispersing, fewer and fewer people approached to shake their hands, pat them on the back, or unabashedly ask them on a date. The stadium doorman leaned against a nearby tree and waited for Crono to approach.

"Say, kid. What's your full name?" he asked. "I've heard of you before."

"Crono Zenan." He extended his hand in greeting.

"Your last name's Zenan? Like the bridge?"

Crono nodded yes.

"That's the strangest thing. You seem just like him."

"Like who?"

"That bridge on the western shores has stood in this land since long before you were born. It's been maintained by people who remember the heroes who died fighting upon it." He chuckled. "I'm quite a history buff myself and I've never discovered an event that chilled my blood until today." His words hung on the air and Crono and Nadia felt compelled to step closer. "This bridge was dedicated in memory of a boy who banished a witch's curse there four hundred years ago. A boy who bears your name." He paused dramatically. "And this boy had red hair and a blue robe. He looks just like you."

A chill ran up Crono's spine. "Coincidence," he offered. "Maybe I resemble one of my ancestors."

"Remarkable that no one else in history gets described with red hair and a blue robe." The attendant reached into his tunic and pulled out a folded page, yellowed and crinkled around the edges. He handed it to Crono. "Read this."

"A large bridge spans two islands where a great castle towers over the land. Two armies vast and deep as the nearby sea battle on the bridge. The Dark Lord Magus leads the mystics. A golden knight rallies the soldiers. And a red-haired warrior cloaked in blue raises aloft a sword of azure fire whose rays reach for the moon." Crono's eyebrows lifted a notch. "Wow. That does sound like me. But, of course, I didn't live back then." He returned the page to the attendant just as a bell echoed in the distance.

"That late already?" the doorman asked. "Have to go tidy up the stadium. You two have a great day and stay safe." He strolled off in the direction from which Crono and Nadia had just come.

Nadia took Crono's hand and led him along the path. Crono seemed deep in thought. They left the path to cross a meadow between the stadium and the square. There they came upon a young girl, who cried as she gazed up into the branches of a tree.

Nadia crouched down to her. "What's wrong, honey?"

The girl sniffled. She pointed up the short tree. "My kitty's in the tree and won't come down."

The duo craned their necks up, squinted and followed the small mewlings to a crook in the branches where a tiny tabby sat. Crono positioned himself as close to the cat as he could and carefully lifted it down, then handed it to the girl. "There you go, kid. Keep it safe."

The girl cradled the kitten in her arms and traded her tears for a toothy smile. "I will! Thank you!" She trotted off toward the square.

Crono and Nadia headed back across the busy fairgrounds, where mystics and humans came and went. They briefly marveled at balloons that rose in vivid colors against the afternoon sky. Studying Nadia, Crono suddenly realized he didn't really know her. Why did she hide her face in that hood? Perhaps she was running from something. Was she a criminal? Crono pushed that thought from his mind. She did wear a pendant more valuable than any treasure Crono had ever seen. But he refused to believe anything negative about someone so beautiful.

The sun brightened across the canvas of forest leaves that gleamed under the shadow of Kelvenforge. Throughout the festival grounds, the music of mystics echoed in lively waves. As Crono and Nadia followed one of the empty roads that crisscrossed Leene's Square, they came across a big fellow, maybe Crono's age, and a younger kid who had bumped into one another. The prize the older boy carried had broken on collision and now the angry bully shoved the smaller boy, swore at him and got into his face. The younger boy apologized, backed away and clearly didn't wish to fight. But the older boy punched him in the face, and sent blood spurting from the kid's nose.

"Stop it!" Crono commanded as he marched into the middle of the fight with fists clenched tighter than steel. When the older kid swung at the smaller kid, Crono grabbed him by the collar, spun him around, and struck him in the mouth so hard it took a moment for the bully to figure out what happened. Crono pushed the older boy away. "So, you think you're brave hitting someone smaller than you?"

The bully swung at Crono, but Crono easily sidestepped the hit and punched the kid in the gut, then again in the head with two lightning-fast jabs. The bully fell heavily to the ground. Slowly he stood back up, and grasped his stomach. "Stay out of other people's fights, you idiot! This doesn't concern you."

Crono's eyes challengingly narrowed. "You're the idiot if you think I'll stand back and watch you attack a younger kid. I should downsize your face for even touching him. What happened was an accident. So grow up!"

Then the bully pulled a knife from his tunic and pointed it at Crono.

Crono sighed and rolled his eyes. "Put the knife away," he warned. "You become more ridiculous every moment."

But the bully lunged at Crono. Crono sidestepped the boy easily and grabbed his wrist, then twisted it so hard that the boy sharply shrieked in pain before dropping his knife. Crono towered over the kid, pulled him up by his shirt and slammed him against a tree. "You had your chance," Crono whispered darkly. "I won't report you, but I'm keeping your knife. If you ever come near this boy again, I will hunt you down and hurt you. Now get out of here."

Crono let go, and the bully rubbed his head where it hit the tree as he quietly limped away.

"Thank you," choked the younger boy before he headed off back to the festival tents.

Crono retrieved the knife from the ground and inspected it. Sharp and crafted of blue iron, the blade's surface modeled the emblem of a silver flame. It looked more like a dagger than a regular knife. Crono tossed it into the air, caught it again in the same movement, then placed it on his belt. "This should bring me a few drakes," he said to Nadia.

"I think you should keep it," Nadia said. "It suits you."

"What does that mean?"

"A blade needs a holder as true as its edge. Old Man Melchior said that once."

Old Man Melchior? thought Crono. How does she know him?

"The gleam of a silver edge does not shine so if not for the courage that burns inside the one who holds it." She stepped near and closed Crono's hand over the knife's handle. "It's no different with you. Keep it close."

Crono emerged slowly from the Telepod and glanced around as if experiencing everything for the first time. "Whoa. How cool! I didn't feel anything!" Fritz and Nadia scrambled over, patted him down, and inspected him all over.

Luca came over too and gripped Crono's hand firmly before turning back to the crowd. He lifted his face to the sky. "Thank you for your praise, but this honor belongs not only to me. Crono is the wind in my sails. And he deserves your applause as well. Let's give him a big round!" Another roar exploded from the crowd as everyone clapped and cheered.

Luca turned to Crono. "We share at least one more thing, punk head."

"What?"

"This day of the Millennial Festival, everyone who doubted us now cheers us. Remember when we, as kids, made that promise? You held your wooden sword and I held up a science book, and we vowed to become our dreams? Well, those dreams have become real. Thanks for helping me down the path, Crono."

Crono shrugged. "Anytime, buddy. What else would I do with my life if not risk it in one of your crazy inventions?"

After the fight with Battle Trainer and the run-in with the bully, Crono and Nadia followed sunlit paths, and admired the colorful pitched tents and balloons that floated in the sky. Then Crono's stomach growled so loudly even Nadia turned toward it and laughed.

"Yes, I'm starved," Crono admitted. "Those two fights drained me. Maybe we should take Taban's advice and get a bite."

Then, right in their path, they came across an open bag from which wafted the most delicious smells. Crono lifted the bag and peeked inside. "A couple sandwiches," he said, then looked around. A few families sat on the lawn or at tables. Some kids tossed a ball yards away. "Doesn't look like anybody wants it."

"Might belong to someone who's coming back for it."

"I prefer to eat first and ask questions later," Crono said. "Maybe one of our Battle Trainer fans feels too shy to approach us and so left us this offering."

"Whatever. Eat it or don't eat it."

"Would you like some?"

"None for me, thanks."

So Crono scarfed down one sandwich and stuffed the second in his pocket for later. "We've quite some time before sundown and Luca's unveiling. Shall we spend the day together?"

Nadia grabbed Crono's arm then and squeezed it in answer. They joined in some of the games and visited the Tent of Horrors. Crono bought Nadia some ice cream and a pair of funny glasses. When they took a long walk along the beach, Crono led Nadia to the mouth of his favorite cave. There they sat in the sand, and leaned back on their hands with their long legs crossed. The distant swells of the ocean and the cave's sloshing echoes washed over them.

"You know, I found something today. Something that's passed me by ever since I was a child."

"What's that?"

"Friendship." She smiled and gazed out at the ocean. "We lead such different lives, you and I, but we share a bond that transcends our ranks. My father won't allow me to speak to commoners. He thinks a rich man's life holds more value than a poor man's. Yet I consider your freedom, Crono, a treasure just as you consider my pendant a treasure. I promised never to become like my corrupt family."

That was the most Nadia had said about herself all day. Crono sat forward and put his arm around her. She leaned her head on his shoulder. A symphony of feelings surfaced, so powerful that for a moment everything in the world seemed to stop. Nadia gazed up at Crono and Crono gazed down at Nadia, and then they kissed. Then the Bell of Queen Leene chimed seven times in the silver twilight.

After Crono's successful transfer from one pod to the other, Nadia approached Luca. "That looked like so much fun! I want to try it."

Luca quietly studied her, and still wondered where he'd seen her before. Then he shrugged. "I don't know if it's safe to rerun the machine. Not after all the power it endured."

"Nonsense!" Nadia brushed off his objection with a wave of her hand. "You built it, after all, Mr. Inventor! I'm sure it'll be fine! Throw the switch, Devir!" She ran into the left pod before Luca could disagree.

Down below the stage, the audience started to disband.

Luca sighed. "Ah, well, let's not ruin her fun. If anything goes wrong, we can always turn it off." He sat down at the remote. "Start the engine, Pops."

Taban sidled along the machine. "What, again? We're doing a second test run? Shouldn't hamster boy be in the left pod?"

Luca shook his head no as he pressed a few buttons. "Blondie wants to give it a shot this time." But as Luca studied the control buttons, he started to frown. "Something's wrong," he said. Behind him, Crono shouted. "Look!"

All eyes fixed on Nadia. The radiant blue glow that teleported Crono earlier appeared once more, but it did not surround the Telepod. The glow, drawn to the gemstone, focused on Nadia's sapphire pendant. Nadia screamed from inside the glass, but that same glass muffled her cries of desperation as she clawed at her pendant and yanked it over her head. The necklace hit the glass and fell to the floor, but the lightning ceaselessly radiated from the gem.

"Turn off the machine, Luca!" Crono yelled. His blue robes and crimson hair waved wildly as he sped to the pod.

Fritz ran up to take Crono's place behind Luca. "Turn it off! Now!"

"I can't!" Luca cried as he frantically hit several buttons. "The Telepod won't stop! I can't control it!"

The blue light pinpointed Nadia's pendant, then immersed itself in the glow from the gemstone. Suddenly a portal the size of a small lake emerged from the lightning, adjacent to the pod where Nadia pounded on one side of the glass and Crono the other. The light surrounded Nadia, and turned the pod into a magnetic prison that prevented her escape. Then without warning, she passed through iron and steel as if made of the blue light that steadily enveloped her. The last thing Crono heard before she disappeared entirely was the cry of his name.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter II—In the Half-Light of Memory

Nadia's final screams died into stillness. Not a sound came from the remaining audience. Everyone gaped at what they had just seen, and all eyes fixed on the Telepod where the girl no longer stood.

A moment later, Taban appeared and shooed away the crowd. "Show's over, folks. Move along. Um . . . technical difficulties!" After everyone reluctantly dispersed, Taban faced his son. "Luca, what happened?" He helplessly flailed his arms. "What went wrong? Where'd the girl go? Is she okay?"

"I don't know!" Luca yelled back, then punched a few more buttons on the desk. "I can't bring her back."

Fritz shook his head in dismay. "She just disappeared into that vortex."

Luca pondered and studied the place Nadia last stood. "I can only surmise her pendant affected the Telepod somehow. That's why the machine malfunctioned."

The father and son continued their discussion as Crono noticed something glimmering on platform of the left pod. There sat a beckoning blue sparkle amid the night's hushed blackness, and Crono knelt to find Nadia's pendant. He cupped the priceless stone in his hand. "This started everything. Sent her into oblivion." His eyes narrowed in determination. "But, more importantly, this is the key that will bring her home." He gripped the sapphire necklace as though holding Nadia's hand, then gazed off into the trees. He didn't understand why, but felt somehow her fate rested with him.

He turned to face Luca. "She won't stay lost for long." He shouted to quiet them down. "Because I'm going after her."

Taban stared at him in perplexity. "No, I will not allow that! No one enters the Telepod! It's too risky!"

Crono defiantly shook his head. "Only someone entering the portal after her can find her. She said she was new to Guardia. She might not know the way home. I should go after her. I'm not a scientist and can't help fix the machine, so you can't use me here. I don't want Nadia to be alone, wherever she ended up."

Taban thoughtfully glanced at Luca. "Won't we lose both of them if he enters the portal? Can we track his location before he disappears? If that necklace caused the portal to open, we would need to send someone with it to bring Nadia back, wouldn't we?"

Luca stared out into the mountains, then faced his father. "I agree with Crono. We have no other choice." Each of his words seemed forced. He didn't want to watch his best friend step into a potentially dangerous machine and vanish into oblivion. "I don't know where the Telepod will take you, to the mountains, out in the ocean, on an island, or somewhere else. But hold onto that pendant, Crono. It might be your only way home."

Crono nodded in understanding. "Not alone. We'll both return."

"I'll go with you," Fritz offered and stepped forward. "I feel bad about what happened. Maybe I can help."

Luca shook his head no. "Fritz, I'm sorry, but sending two people into the Telepod makes an even worse idea. You can assist us, though. I want you to stay behind and start a rumor in town. Tell the villagers everything went well and Nadia returned home safely. Do that and it will make this search much simpler. We won't be able to help her if Pops and I get tossed into prison."

Fritz glanced around at his friends. "All right, I'll do that. Be careful out there, Crono. I'll pray for you."

Luca sat down at the remote controls. "When I figure out what's wrong with the Telepod, I'll come looking for you, Crono. I promise."

Crono dropped the pendant into his tunic pocket and stepped into the left pod. "I hold you to that."

A moment later, the two scientists transferred energy into the machine, and the great blue portal opened a second time. The lightning, the same flashing energy that swirled like living liquid and beckoned blue from another dimension, enveloped Crono. It burned through the air, illuminated the mountains and filled the Telepod with power that roared to a deafening pitch. As it radiated across the sky, Crono's sight turned hazy and he felt himself fall through rain clouds that embraced his mind and exhorted him to sleep. Lights began to fade, the color of the fair, the starlit sky, Taban's nod of encouragement, Fritz' sad parting smile, and finally the reassuring blue eyes of his childhood friend. The portal widened as if to confirm the promise Luca made before Crono stepped into the machine. I'll come looking for you. I promise.

Then Crono Zenan passed through metal and light and vanished before the eyes of those who watched him go.

"Good luck!" he heard through the cold wind and the indistinct voices blowing in from the portal. Luca's voice. Then everything in Crono Zenan's small, rain-washed view of the earth disappeared in a rushing whirlpool of blue and black as he left Guardia behind and shot off into the unknown.

Crono Zenan spiraled through a swirling blue galaxy as vast as the sky and deeper than the sea. Across landscapes and darkness, voices cried out from a tornado of images and sound. His body burned with rushes of pain, and the sharp song of lifeless wind filled his ears, yet he felt no sensation from the drafts as they whipped his long hair and robes. Lost within the depths of mist, he could not discern the shape of his hands, phantasmal and indistinct, as he brought them before his eyes. Ahead, a single light beckoned, and he drifted as though falling in a dream. Flashes of the world assailed his vision—forests, rivers and foggy villages, glimpses of a kingdom that existed in a time before he could remember. The portal stretched on into eternity, and shimmered like melted obsidian. The end of Crono's transit neared with every moment. He could feel it. He braced himself as he descended into liquid blackness. Fighting back the pain, he strained his muscles to outlast what flung against him as he continued to delve maddeningly into the unknown.

Realities shifted as though his soul vacated his body, and the doorway to Guardia flickered weakly in the blue light as the walls of this transparent hallway seemed to stir and carry Crono even further from home. He could not make out the passage of time or measure the blinding speed of his travel. Everything occurred at once. He heard his name, noticed the shadow of his memories within the mirrors of half-light that surrounded him. And somewhere within the rippling lights, he thought he saw his father's face, weathered by wind and sun. He placed his finger on his opposite wrist and took his pulse as he wondered if he had died before he passed through the portal. Did he stand in the Telepod, or did he walk the spirit halls at the end of life?

Torn from the light that impelled him away, Crono aimlessly fell through the tunnel, from the village, from friends, from people he loved. Only the glowing light beyond foretold the blue tunnel's end as it drew him closer to its shine and the promise of freedom that waited in the distance. When Crono's trembling fingers at last reached the light, his senses returned all at once and a cool breath of wind overtook him. He hit the ground chest first and them tumbled against something hard—a tree.

Several hours later, Crono awoke in a mountain clearing nestled within a ring of trees. Hundreds of feet of mountain rock vertically loomed before him, and formed a dark barrier against the skyline. He heard the soft echoes of a river flowing quietly down the mountain, smelled the scent of wet grass, and his mouth tasted like dirt. For some reason, these all reminded him of Zaida Forest.

"Ugh, my head," Crono groaned as he grasped his forehead. "Where am I?" A faint curtain of moisture and sunlight dappled the green leaves and shimmering trunks. Dew sparkled in the morning light as it gently lit the woods where songbirds twittered the time of day. "I must have slept through the night." Black canyons seemed to stare down like the hoods of faceless strangers, and the ancient trees, grayed and withered by time, knifed into the heavens. The sun rose above the eastern mountains, and shot its first faint rays of light to the silent morning as Crono stirred from his resting place in the small clearing. Tiny sticks and dried leaves entangled his hair as he glanced up through the widespread gaps between the ageless trees, where small lines of mist coiled around their bases. He looked around but saw Nadia nowhere. Lost just like him, he supposed. Slowly he brushed off the twigs and leaves, then heaved to his feet with a weary grunt.

Red and green leaves shimmered above him as he hiked over to where the forest thinned, then he stared off into the land that stretched into the horizon. Amid the dense brush and deadwood beneath the canyon depths, Crono searched for movement and any traces of Nadia.

"Nothing. I'm too late." Suddenly something rustled the leafy bushes to Crono's left. Silently it slunk through the distant shade of the thick trees. But Crono's seasoned fighting senses did not miss the scurrying echo, and his hand hovered close to his weapon as he stood cautiously in the dim sunlit clearing.

"Nadia?" he called, but no answer came. Crono waited in the silence. Not alone, his sharp eyes never left the cold shadow of the woods where an unknown creature crept and watched his every move.

Then came the sinister and threatening voice. "Leave this place, mortal," it echoed across the clearing. The unseen being caused blackbirds to scatter from the trees and depart the mountain in all directions. "Turn back while you still can. You stand in Kelvenforge, where mystics rule and the Dark One sees all. Those who trespass shall be destroyed!" Crono felt rather than saw something lurking in the bushes. "Zaida Forest belongs to us now. Be gone, lest the Dark One show himself!"

"Show yourself, coward," Crono replied as he wondered at the identity of this "Dark One." "Come out of the shadows. You don't frighten me." Crono guardedly approached the bushes, and as he neared he barely avoided a deadly strike. A spear shot through the air, and impaled a tree directly behind him. Instantly a host of goblins leapt out at him from all directions. Their screeches filled the air, and their lank rawboned forms hunched darkly and menacingly. In their clawed hands, rusty sword blades glinted, but Crono stood his ground as they came at him in an uneven rush. As he pulled free his sword, he wondered at the difference in these goblins. They appeared not as the slime-green goblins of his homeland, but bigger, with black rocklike skin. Their lifeless eyes gleamed red with bloodlust, and leather garb protected their slender forms as they charged at Crono with weapons drawn high.

Crono had never seen so many goblins just north of his homeland, but he found no time for speculation as he readied himself to deflect the first blade coming into range. Crono parried the strike, then countered with such a vicious slam he sent the first goblin flying head over heels. The rest of the remaining troop charged as their comrades fired arrows which would quickly bring down their adversary. Groans and screeches of battle filled the dawn, and blood streaked the barren earth as vividly as the crimson sun distantly rising in the east. Crono rushed fearlessly into their midst, and executed his wild fighting maneuvers so fast he dodged and repelled every strike against him. The goblin archers, historically not intelligent, discovered their error too late as they fired on their fellow comrades in their vain attempts to kill the solitary intruder. Crono darted through the ranks, snapped necks with his tough hands and smashed skulls with his wooden sword. The goblins panicked, then shrieked out into the trees in a strange language. In answer to their cry, more goblins rushed at Crono from behind, and appeared from the dark to destroy him. But the battle lasted only a few minutes.

Crono relentlessly stormed them. His savage grimace mirrored death as he cast the goblins' weapons aside, charged in to slam his blunt sword into their slender forms, then crushed their bones under his large booted feet. The unrivaled speed and ferocity of Crono's hammering blows confused and frightened the goblins, and they fled like thieves back into the dark. When Crono heard the unmistakable echo of more goblins cry out in terror, he suspected the muffled screams emanated from a cave not far away. The goblins broke apart, retreated northward, and sought to avoid a fate similar to some of their comrades. They evidently assumed that an army of humans bombarded them instead of just one. Crono unleashed his final knockdown on those that remained, silenced and scattered the vile creatures, and laid waste to their evil. As the last goblin attacked, Crono sighed and kicked it in the face, and sent it sprawling over the side of the mountain, where it tumbled and plunged to its death. Alone once more, Crono knelt and searched the gloom for more enemies. Then he reluctantly sheathed his sword, and vowed to find his way out to continue his search for Nadia.

Clambering over goblin carcasses and following their tracks, Crono explored and scouted the trees. He arrived at a deserted wilderness and goblin camp filled with gnawed bones, dried rat meat and rusty cooking uternsils. He had hoped Nadia might wait somewhere close. But he found no one. Surveying the land once more and discovering no sign of struggle here except his own, he made his way back to the clearing. He had to assume Nadia traveled back to Truce after arriving here sometime last night and guessed her location at several miles away by now. She most likely followed the river, so Crono picked his way along the trees at an even pace. Avoiding the dense and enshrouding canvas of scrubland from which the goblins and other spawn could emerge, he determinedly marched onward. Except an occasional drip of moisture that fell from the motionless leaves in a dewy chime, no sounds or voices echoed as Crono departed what he guessed made up the Draven Canyons where he camped as a boy. The forestland stretched away in a gloomy sea of flora. As his distance grew so did his recognition when the ground level sloped downward. This mountain and forest felt familiar enough that he knew them as part of his homeland. The goblins even mentioned his trespass into Zaida Forest and Kelvenforge, and that proved it. But at the same time, the land appeared more foreign in his heart than it did in his eyes. How far north in Guardia had he traveled? In the back of his mind, a tiny voice whispered that this place was not home.

The forest deepened into a carpet of rolling hills. Only the sporadic echo of forest life broke the silence of Crono's journey. He sensed no further enemies in the wilderness, but as he reached a darker shadowing of trees he felt someone watching him, he guessed with malevolence, as a chill trickled down his spine. All at once the trees thinned and he arrived at a small road. He knew not how deep into the forest he had trekked, and even less where he headed.

He left the trees behind and breathed in the fresh air at the lower ridges of the Draven Canyon. He confirmed the place as Guardia when he beheld a perfect view of Zaida Falls thundering amid the gloom of Kelvenforge, and he excitedly climbed the nearest cliff that provided the best view of his home. But instead of observing the Millennial Festival, he found another sea of trees. No life.

"This can't be," he whispered, and checked everything twice. "Where's Havenseld? Where's my village and the fair? This can't be Guardia. What's going on?" He couldn't spot a single home in the land ahead, nor the sight or sound of human activity. Where he thought the fair once stood, now only trees, a mountain that descended towards the valley, and a great black stain of an unknown region of mist beyond.

Crono quickly climbed down the mountain, and wondered if he might have ended up further north or on another island identical to his. But he couldn't deny the familiar sights of this land because he had camped with Fritz and Luca in this very part of the mountains not long ago. He decided the best course of action would be to follow the river south until he found someone who could disclose his location. The Telepod seemed to malfunction badly, Crono recalled. Perhaps Nadia's pendant affected the machine's guiding system, and simply sent them further into the uncharted areas of Kelvenforge instead of into the opposite pod on the stage. But even that assumption failed to answer his biggest question. Why did nothing sit in its expected place? Had he landed in Guardia or not?

"I will find my answer in time," Crono murmured but remained unaware of the deeper meaning of those words as he pushed on into the gloom.

Avoiding the cracks and crevices of the mountain surface, he slowly continued downward and jumped from large stones sealed into the mountainside. Then he followed a small stream and trusted that its life-giving waters would lead to civilization. At the bottom of the mountain, another forest appeared, twisted, toxic, and devoid of roads or the footsteps of any living creature. The stark grass denounced color and life, and stretched into the distant groves like a writhing sea of black thorns that clutched the corpses of small animals. The black leafless trees thrust into the somber skies as if to beg mercy for their tortured earth, which appeared skeletal and dead against the dusky horizon.

Crono noticed nothing lived in this place but, even more frightening, black and red storm clouds took shape in the skies as he proceeded south. He felt a curse shadowing his footsteps from the scowling heavens. Anxious to flee the ominous onyx ceiling that stirred overhead, he hastily broke into a run. Abruptly the mountain path ended as he came upon a field of gray mist, and Crono stopped there to gaze into its deep unyielding presence. He stared at the swamp in fear and confusion, and could almost feel it staring back.

"What the?" he questioned as he recognized this place as the black stain in the land he had seen from the northern canyon. "What is this place?" All across the voluminous landmass that once comprised Havenseld, gray fog windlessly roiled. The mist felt ice cold as it unnerved Crono with the biting sense that foul creatures lurked within. Into the horizon the marshes disappeared. The mere sight of the fog seemed to whisper voices in his mind, voices that told him he would not pass through alive, that the dead forest and animals behind him mirrored his looming fate should he pass into the swamp.

The terrain breathed and undulated as if expecting him. It appeared so cursed and impure that even orcs seemed to avoid the area. Then he suddenly noticed something, a cloaked and hooded figure standing in the mist ahead. It carried with it a long scythe, and wore black featureless robes that reflected death as the hollow hood turned in Crono's direction. For a moment, Crono uncertainly thought he saw long blue hair fluttering from the hood. As the unholy being approached, it levitated above the water, and Crono couldn't tell if it represented mystic or human. Crono immediately hid behind a rock as his terror intensified in his isolation on that cold sunless mountain edge. Fear of the shadow's gaze crept like liquid ice in his veins, and chilled his very blood. Crono risked a quick glance over his stone sanctuary, and caught sight of the being retreating into the distance. Crono deeply sighed in relief. The creature had not seen him. He lay against the rock and waited for his heartbeat to slow as he peered into the somber shrouded marshes and at the suspended figure far beyond. Even from the distance, Crono felt the foreboding presence of the shadow, and he stayed silent until it disappeared entirely.

Breathing easier now, Crono rose to his feet, and pressed on into the foulness of the black marshes with vigilant senses. Nothing but grim wetlands dominated the path ahead, and permeated Crono's body with each of his steps as the trail stretched across Guardia. The place smelled of rot, soaked deadwood and muck. From the blackened waters, the saturated roots of old trees lifted skyward. Insects buzzed around the carcasses of deer, skunks, and small animals that lay half buried or lifelessly floating in the swamp. All beauty and virtue of Crono's light-sheltered homeland left behind, the atmosphere whispered only of death. Through the mist miles ahead, the land appeared empty and gray. Nothing but joyless skies crowned the backdropping mountains that appeared as the knuckles of giants stretched painfully against the horizon.

Crono looked to the heavens, but when he glanced once more into the swamp, he stopped in horror. Dead bodies lay scattered across the marshes, the corpses pallid and rotting in the gray half-light, their remains floating adrift the blackened waters. Blood caked their wounds and emptied into the swamp, but even blood did little to color the desolate surface of this place. Crono noted eyes gouged out and mouths lying open in silent screams that must have formed just as death overtook them.

Crono grew more heartsick with every step as he discovered these men bore the symbol of Guardia. The crimson-gold flag of his homeland lay broken and smudged. But this can't be Guardia, Crono told himself again. He knelt before the men, and whispered a silent prayer for a flight of angels to sing the knights to eternal rest.

A moment later, an eerie glimmer caught Crono's eye through the mist several yards southward, and he rose to his feet to detect the strange presence. When he stepped across the slushy grass, the mist began to clear and he came upon patches of black flames that burned in a smokeless dance. Wreathed by lavender, the fires seemed infused with magic. But sorcery disappeared from Guardia centuries ago, Crono thought. He hypnotically stared into the dark flames, and became mesmerized by the beckoning void as he wondered why the blaze existed and what created it. The flames originated from no fuel but burned strongly atop the waters amid the mist. Crono's knowledge of fire whirled him in circles. The flames crackled slowly and absorbed sunlight, fire that in fact stole away light rather than gave it back.

When Crono first noticed the blaze, he grew shocked to find some warmth in this eternal gloom, then rushed forward to bask in the fire's life-giving heat. But the closer Crono came to the fire, the colder he became. He placed his hands above the flames, and received only cold. They emanated a glacial aura like a mirror of true fire that consumed heat as well as light. The unholy beacons seemed put there solely to render the marshes lightless and freezing as they formed the insignia of a crescent scythe impaled in a skull, an image of malice spawned from a heart as cold and unfeeling as the one who created it, a man whose name appeared only in legend and nightmare.

Crono slowly circled the flames before a gruesome creature, disguised as a massive rock in a large puddle several feet away, explosively burst from the depths of the blackened water with a terrifying roar. Hulking and overly muscled, the beast stood eight feet tall. Crono observed pale blue skin and crooked teeth, gnarled fingers broader than knotted sticks, and a face contorted into a savage grimace as its beady black eyes hungrily fixed upon its prey. Quick as a whip, the creature immediately charged at the brawny youth with a mace in hand. Crono startled and then realized he faced an ogre. But they have not been seen in Guardia for hundreds of years, he rationalized, though he had no time to dwell on the matter. Crono withdrew his wooden sword and leapt to the side with catlike reflexes just as the huge iron-spiked mace crashed to the earth in an explosion that rocked the swamp. The blasted trees shook violently, and although Crono dodged the blow, the quaking still knocked him from his feet. He fell back into the water, then tried to regain his standing. His movement slowed and became slippery from the murky cold of the swamp floor.

Apparently famished for human flesh, the towering monster relentlessly attacked Crono. The clumsy creature missed often when charging but managed to land an excruciatingly painful blow on Crono's shoulder. The youth slammed to the ground, and his head struck an uprooted stump. He slumped over as if he would never rise again. Barely conscious, he rolled away from another assault, then rose to his feet, struck back the beast with all his strength, and landed a mighty blow on the back of the creature's thick skull. Unfortunately, the wooden sword simply shattered on impact, with Crono not harming the beast at all. The beast only roared louder. The weaponless fighter knew he now stood no chance against the ogre, then turned around and fled for his life. But the ogre chased after Crono like a maddened wolf hunting a wounded rabbit! Crono bolted southward and would have outrun the creature had not a stabbing pain dogged his every step. His wounded shoulder burned with every movement, and he knew if he did not escape soon or kill this monster, he would die. He ran a quarter of a mile through the marshes before he tripped and fell into the swamp, with the creature lumbering up hard and fast to finish him.

Crono Zenan lay flat on his chest, his bent arms raising his face out of the murk, and envisioned his fate as he stared into his reflection in the water. He knew his life would end here. On the verge of giving up, he felt cold touch his hand as the steel blade with the emblem of the silver flame fell from a pocket in his robe. Keep it close. Nadia's words echoed in his thoughts, and in stunned realization Crono drew the knife he had taken from the bully the day before. Crono rose to his feet with a mighty push of his strong arms and turned around.

"Come at me! Let's finish this!" Crono challenged the beast, then streaked mud on his face like warpaint. The ogre rushed at Crono, but the boy reacted faster. As the iron-spiked mace descended, Crono sidestepped its blow, then climbed up the length of the ogre's thick inclining weapon and pierced the beast's throat. The ill-fated ogre gazed into the fire of Crono's flaring eyes before it fell to the ground with a thundering crash, shook the entire swamp, and shuddered out its final breath.

Crono stared in disbelief at his kill. "I beat it! Yeah! What now?" He kicked the beast in the head in celebration and then spit on it. "Not so powerful when you're dead, are you?" He pulled his blade from the creature's throat and wiped it clean in the dark swamp water. "That's for breaking my dad's training sword, you hellish beast!"

Crono brushed himself off, took a few deep breaths and secured his long knife in his robe before turning his gaze and his path southward. He continued in that direction for a long time. With sore legs and muscles, he remained lost and alone as he half blindly traveled the deep mist for several miles.

Hours later, through the mist, Crono recognized red pinpricks of torchlight dotting the well-defended stonewall borders of a small community. The night-pitch backdrop of the skies faintly illuminated the crimson sparks that escaped into the air. The scent of burning wood mingled with the cold stench of the marshes. That and the distant scrape of rough voices from armored watchmen atop the barracks filled the air. Crono felt the wind on his face as the mist cleared significantly and he followed a dirt road towards the beckoning red lights of the faraway village. Some guards held bows at the ready while others gripped spears. All watchful iron gazes fixed upon the solitary traveler who had emerged like a ghost from the deadly swamp. Crono held his hands above his head and kept his palms open as he approached the tiny gathering of life amid a sea of gloom and death. At the steel gate, surrounded by murky streams and damp soil, the guards ordered Crono to tell them his name and show them his ears, as they informed him they killed any pointy-eared mystic on sight. On discovering Crono a human who sought only shelter, one of the guards gestured for the doorman to open the entrance and Crono stepped slowly into the gated community.

Black clouds hung low across the skies, and the shadows cast by trees lent the village below a gray and wintry presence. Smoke curled out from the stone chimneys of small cottages, and blended with cold winds which blowed from the roaring seas beyond the village walls. The air swayed with the fumes of an old land. Paint chipped from wooden homes. Stone roadways lay marred and worn, with fences shattered and broken, and gardens infested with weeds. The ragged and somber residents drifted through doors and past windows with what Crono noted as suspicion and fear in their eyes. But even the sight of people did little to dull the sickening in the pit of Crono's stomach. He knew not if this originated from his last battles in the disease-infested marshes or from this village, which appeared very similar to his own but unnervingly ghostlike. The bleakness confirmed he had not stepped into Truce Village, the lush beautiful homeland of green valleys and blue rivers he had left behind. Not a single mystic lived here, only humans wearing swords, axes or knives on their outer garments, but no name of a town came to Crono's mind.

Aching and sleepy eyed as he studied his surroundings, he slowly walked down the rutted and cracked streets. Further north, the marshes lay silent as death, and the eastern sea spilled from the southern beaches, where gray grasslands stretched westward into a place that looked like the Lazaren Highlands.

Suddenly reminded of Truce Village, Crono felt sickened and cold as he bent over and vomited.

"You all right, lad?" someone asked him, yet Crono did not acknowledge the man. He simply nodded yes, but remained heartsick and homesick. His mind raced. Something horribly wrong had happened to this place. Not only did the half-dead peasants, clad in rags, match the begrimed fate of the land, but the place looked exactly like a Guardia Kingdom stripped of its color and joy.

Crono never imagined such a horrible place existed. The sky shone dully, smudge colored with gray through breaks in the roiling black clouds. Not even the faintest sparkle of sunlight broke through the screen of darkness that shrouded the land in a ceiling of shadow and sadness. Even the number of monsters had increased, for Crono now knew goblins and other foul beasts roamed the mountains. The people cowered from door to door, and regarded Crono with fright and curiosity. Most stayed clear of him as soldiers followed the newcomer's every move with cautionary eyes.

Crono tried to not call attention to himself, although that proved impossible because of his flame-red hair and greater cleanliness, even with swamp water soaking his clothing. He wandered down roads and between lanes, then noticed a sign for an inn, opened a small gate and took the path leading there, where he would seek information. Parting the front doors to the tavern, Crono glanced around the wooden structure's interior, the polished chairs and circular tables, and the sweeping bar several feet from the entrance. Then he approached the bar.

He saw nobody in the tavern except a fairly pretty girl, who wore a light blue and green tunic, and stood at the front counter as she stared at Crono with chestnut eyes. Her long brown hair fell back from her faintly freckled pixie face. Crono said nothing for a moment as he gathered his thoughts. A savage-looking youth, beaten and bloodied, wounds and grime streaking his face, he must have seemed so frightening to the young lady. Exhausted and having not slept well in the forest clearing, he knew he could not continue his search for Nadia half dead. He rented a room, washed himself in the warm basin of water the maiden provided, paid her to wash his clothes, and fell asleep in seconds.

Crono awoke to another dawn of black storm clouds that skulked across the windows of the inn, then realized almost an entire day had passed! Dazed and confused, he sat up, reminded himself he had to find Nadia and berated himself for sleeping so long. He left the tavern that morning with a pleasant farewell to the girl, then headed out to the smithy's forge. Crono studied the people in wonder again and smiled. Things did not appear as bleak as they had when he felt tired, but the peasants seemed frightened by something that slipped Crono's mind. Their eyes seemed to always stray to the darkness outside the walls in fear that something lurked there, waiting. Nobody smiled back at him. The people simply mirrored their surroundings, the gray mist a piece of their somber presence, the ceiling of storm clouds symbolizing their belief that no light would ever shine down to them, and the colorless world that reflected the inner struggle in their hearts.

The village contained homes, businesses, churches and taverns, but at the moment it seemed like an armed camp. Guards stood in front of the shops, at the ends of the streets, under the torch lamps, atop the barracks surrounding the stonewall borders, where they watched everyone with suspicion and weapons held close. Crono wondered how someone as beautiful as Nadia could have ended up in such a place. Had she even survived the wilderness or made it off the mountain? For that matter, would she stay here for very long? He had no answer as he blindly clutched at faith and wished for a miracle.

Crono discovered a blacksmith's shop and hoped the laws of this foreign land would allow him to purchase a sword. The women, with their ghostlike children hovering close, glanced suspiciously at Crono, and cautiously whispered as he entered the weapon store. The long structure had been constructed of dried dusty wood that echoed every man's smallest step, and a whiff of sawdust faintly hung on the air. A large window fronted the entrance of the shop to display an array of decent weapons, some in glass cases, others on the wall behind the lengthy counter where the blacksmith stood. Crono became astonished to find the fellow smiling, then he approached him.

"Pleasant day to you, Sir," the blacksmith greeted, and Crono somehow felt he had known this man for a long time. "How are ya?"

Crono graciously smiled. "I'm doing better now. It's nice to finally meet someone who can smile."

The man chuckled. "A merry heart keeps you strong." The blacksmith seemed in the prime of his life, and nowhere near as rundown as the people of the town. Long dark hair shot through with gray fell away from his sun-browned face and rough countenance, and his eyes reminded Crono of Luca.

"Do you purchase blades by chance?" Crono asked.

The man nodded yes. "Depends on the quality of the weapon. What are you selling?"

Crono quickly pulled free the polished long knife of the bully and set it on the counter for the man to inspect.

The blacksmith studied the knife for a time, then carefully picked it up and held it to the light. "I've never seen a blade quite like this before. Where did you get it?"

Crono did not wish to disclose his discovery of the village entirely by accident after passing through a blue portal. "Spoils of war. I found it on an ogre in the marshes."

The blacksmith slowly set the weapon back on the counter. "As much as I'm impressed with you killing an ogre, I must ask why in the world you would ever go to a place like that. Nothing but death waits out there. And if the land doesn't get ya, the demons will."

"I learned that the hard way."

The man grinned. "Glad you're all right. I'd hate to see another youth buried. I offer you one hundred drakes for the knife, fair enough?"

Crono accepted the offer at once as he eyed the twinkling swords on the far wall. "May I purchase one of your own weapons, Sir? Or am I too young?"

Suddenly the man burst into laughter as if he'd heard the greatest joke of his life. "Can you buy one of my swords, hah! You're quite the joker, eh? I have sons half your age who wield my weapons! Of course you can buy a sword. Which one do you like?"

Crono's eyes lit up. "What's the best one you've got?"

The man paused. "The question is, frankly, can you afford my finest sword, lad? By the looks of ya, mind you, I'd say not."

Crono waved his hand as if to brush aside the blacksmith's doubts. "Never judge a book by its cover."

The man scratched his beard in thought, and his eyes grew distant as he spoke. "Never judge a book by its cover . . . Those words ring strangely true. Hmm. . . I've never heard that one before. What are you, lad, one of the tavern bards? That was good."

Crono uncertainly hesitated. How could this man never have heard such a common saying? Everyone had heard that! What went on with this town?

"So I assume you made all these yourself?" Crono asked as he glanced around.

The blacksmith nodded yes. "I even built the shop you're standing in, lad. Every blade, piece of wood and nail, built it with my own two hands." He beckoned. "Come over here. I want to show you something. Consider yourself lucky. I don't show this to many people." He led Crono to the far side of the shop and removed a scabbard from underneath a detachable section of the counter, then withdrew the blade that rested within. It gleamed truer and sharper than any other blade mounted on the wall. The cold blue metal glittered sharply in a luster as if from gathering stars, and a silver ray cut with its smallest movements. The blade shone three feet long and thick but appeared weightless in the blacksmith's hand and this sword indisputably beckoned to Crono. The muscled youth took in everything the blade represented, a handle as black as the night, steel as vibrant as the moon, and the ever-glimmering blade seemed almost as grand as the forgings of Melchior.

"A beautiful sword," Crono said. "How much?"

The man set down the sword and crossed his arms as if amused, and his eyes narrowed in challenge. "A thousand gold, sonny boy, and don't even think of haggling me. The last fellow who did left with a broken wrist."

Crono placed his money pouch on the table. "That won't be necessary, my good man. Because you've got yourself a deal. I want that sword."

The shopkeeper didn't appear amused now. Evidently, he had never seen so much gold in his life. His mouth gaped as he opened the money pouch and counted out exactly 1,000g, then handed the rest back to Crono, who took the sword and sheathed it across his waist.

A moment later, the blacksmith chuckled. "Never judge a book by its cover. I'm going to remember that one."

"May I also buy two tonics from you?" Crono asked.

The man nodded yes and removed two of the small herbal potions from a cabinet behind him, then placed them on the wooden table. "That'll be 20g, sir."

Crono tossed him the coins, thanked him for his business, and slipped the tonics into his robe pocket.

The blacksmith crossed his arms again. "You know, it's funny, but I feel like I've known you a long time, kid."

Crono gazed into the man's eyes. "Perhaps you and I knew each other in another life, my friend. I look forward to seeing you should I ever pass back through this fine village."

The man laughed. "Fine village, eh? Well, I wouldn't exactly call it that, but thank you. May your blade always strike true, kid." Crono waved goodbye as he headed for the door. "Oh and kid, if you're leaving the village, don't go further than the highlands. Even with the best sword in town, hunting invites danger in this land. Good luck to you."

Crono exited the shop and stood for a moment on the walk to get his bearings. Above him swung a wooden sign with the name of the smithy store: The Blades of Devir. Devir. Luca's last name. What a coincidence, Crono thought as he crossed the street to a tavern. When Crono parted its door, he noted a fire in a small stone hearth against the far wall to his right. Four patrons seated at the bar looked his way as he entered.

Crono walked up to the counter and addressed the gray-haired bartender. "Excuse me."

"For what, boy?" the owner asked. His wrinkled face squinted as he both studied Crono and wiped a small cup.

Crono wondered if the smart-mouthed elder didn't like outsiders. "Um, well, I don't know where I am exactly. I'm looking for a place called Guardia Kingdom. If you could point me in the right direction, I'd appreciate the . . ."

Not only the bartender but the four patrons snorted.

Crono clenched his fist. "What's so funny?"

The now amused bartender wiped his wrinkled forehead on his sleeve. "What is this, some kind of joke?"

Crono's serious expression did not change. "What are you talking about? I'm not kidding! Where is Guardia Kingdom?"

The bartender raised a bushy eyebrow. "Kid, you're in Guardia Kingdom."

Crono incredulously stared. "What? How? This can't be Guardia! Where's the Millennial Festival and the . . ."

"Millennial Festival?" The bartender frowned.

"Yeah, the festival! You didn't hear about it? They hold a festival in Guardia to celebrate the New Millennium!"

The man derisively shook his head and chuckled again. "Well, boy, if you're looking for a Millennial Festival, you've got a long wait ahead of you. It's the year 600 A.D. Or had you not heard?"

Crono's mind blanked. "No . . . I'm . . . This can't be!" This guy must be crazy, he thought, but maybe these men thought the same about him. The past!? How could he have possibly landed in the past? The dizzying flow of the blue portal rushed into his mind and he realized its secret all at once. "Time travel," Crono whispered, then caught himself against one of the tables, and nearly knocked over a chair. "Luca invented a time machine . . ."

"What's that, kid?" the bartender asked, still confused.

The rugged youth did not answer. To travel through time, was that even possible? Had he truly landed in 600 A.D.? The time when the Dark Lord . . . "Oh my God," Crono announced as he realized his greatest fears. "The Black Marshes, I saw him . . ."

"What's wrong with you, boy?" the elder asked as his eyebrows knit in confusion.

"The war . . ."

The tavern owner nodded. "Yeah, what about it? You looking to sign up?"

Crono stared into space, and recalled the black-robed shadow levitating above the marshes the dawn before. "Magus . . ."

With the unholy name hanging in the air, the tavern owner and his patrons started and instinctively leaned away from Crono.

"Do not speak his name, fetcher!" the old man menacingly warned, and drew a weapon. "Here we do not welcome mystics or his kind, and neither will we welcome you if you speak his name! Who are you? One of his servants?"

Crono didn't answer. He turned, traversed the room and went through the door. Adrift in thoughts too dark and truth too cruel, he could not find the words as he realized he had lost his home, family and friends. He studied his surroundings again—the people, the land and the dingy skies. Realization dawned like a flaring red sun as he discovered, upon the Town Square, only a stretch of dark land and a great emptiness where Leene's Bell would one day ring.

Crono truly had landed in Guardia Kingdom, his homeland, four hundred years back in time. The greatest wars in history took place in this age. And if Crono did not return to the future now, he would get caught up in those wars. But how would he escape?

Stuck in this land of death, uncertain how to ignite the portal back in the mountains, and knowing nothing of Nadia's location, he wondered but felt uncertain about the damage he could cause if he stayed here and affected the future. Yet in his heart, he knew if he had the chance to turn back now and go home, he would not. He could never leave Nadia here alone. He knew, somewhere in this land, she counted on him. But the only one with even the faintest idea how the Telepod worked would not exist for another four hundred years.

"Luca," Crono whispered into the gloom as he stared into the hollow resting place of Leene's Bell. "Where are you?"


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter III—Before the Clocks Kept Time

Across the Land of Guardia, shadows and mist seemed to slither and devour the remaining beauty that had sickened under Magus' black hold. Pestilent creatures roamed from the nightmare halls of the Dark One's hidden castle. Deadly ensnaring trees writhed within Darkwood Forest, and storm clouds lingered in the ashen skies as Magus' rayless power cloaked Guardia Kingdom like a plague. With thorns that creaked and roots that snaked, an unsleeping evil lurked in the unliving void from which few return. Amid the homes of Truce Village, the only beckoning light rose from torches that studded the stone walls and glimmered softly beneath dead trees, which hung stark and skeletal against the horizon beyond. Eventually, the gray dawn softly broke over Guardia, and pale beams of ivory lanced through the trees. Under the wreathing darkness, the land remained still and all life draped in sleep.

Crono Zenan walked alone down a misty road that led back to the inn he had initially entered for rest. He would find no welcome in the tavern where he spoke the Dark Lord's name. As he walked through the grim village, firelights lined the roads and cast thin trailers of smoke. Parting the doors of the small tavern, several cloaked travelers and peasants hunched low over glasses of cold ale, and the glow of candles on round tables lit their backs. Crono entered and sat on a vacant stool at the front of the bar as he replayed in his mind the events that led him to this sad fate. For several minutes he didn't move, and remained another unnoticed shadow lost in the tavern as the world passed him by.

He didn't respond much to anything until the pretty tavern girl from earlier that morning approached him. "Can I get you a drink, Sir?" she asked softly. "Are you hungry?"

Crono barely heard her. He shook his head no and cleared his throat as their eyes met. "I'm sorry. Yes, some food would be great. How much for some meat?"

She laughed softly, touched his arm, then flashed a smile as she winked. "It's on the house for you tonight, handsome. You look really down." She poured a mug of ale and quickly slid it to Crono, who ignored it. She brought him a meal of beef, cheese, bread and soup and then leaned across the counter. Her slender hands cupped to her chin like a curious child as she watched him eat. "So what's your name? I've never seen you around here before. You from the south?"

"The north," Crono answered. "I'm looking for my friend. She's a girl about your age . . . umm . . . my lady," he said, uncertain how to properly address people in this time. He glanced at the door before continuing. "Have you noticed any outsiders besides me in town recently?"

She pondered, then shrugged. "I haven't. I'm sorry." The tavern girl touched his arm again. "I will let you be, good sir. Enjoy your stay at Zenan Lodge."

Zenan Lodge? Before Crono could respond, the young girl turned to answer a patron's call for a drink and Crono realized suddenly that this tavern belonged to his ancestors! He wondered why they no longer owned a tavern in his time. What became of it? Perhaps the war destroyed it.

Thinking of war, Crono reminded himself he must escape this doomed village, find Nadia, and return home soon.

Crono spun around on his barstool, leaned quietly against the bar and gazed into the candle flames.

"Hey girlie, I'd like to park my boots under your bed tonight!" one of the haggard men at the tables called at a blonde-haired girl who had entered the tavern. The maiden who served Crono his food put her hands on her hips in disgust.

"You hurt our business when you speak that way! If you don't behave, you'll have to take your ale home with you."

"I'd like to take you home with me, honey!" replied another patron from across the bar.

Crono shook his head in dismay. No wonder the tavern girl seemed to fancy him so much. Women received little respect in this time. Crono glanced around the tavern again. Patrons huddled over their food and drink. Men and women chatted and drank. Some laughed obnoxiously, and others gambled. Everyone moved, all except the lone stranger in black who silently sat in the dark no more than a few stools down from Crono. Shrouded in black from head to foot, with a thick hood that hid his face, and a cloak that covered his broad shoulders, he sat motionless at the bar like an assassin waiting to kill. Crono studied him for a time. Then, as Crono scanned the room, he noticed the others purposely avoided looking in the stranger's direction.

Crono's curiosity changed to fear when the man turned, quite deliberately, to gaze at him with eyes so cold and gray they seemed made of stone.

"Hey, you with the hair," the stranger addressed Crono, who stared in surprise. The man did not lift his hood, his face half hidden as he spoke. "You told the tavern lass you seek someone, yes? Pardon my intrusion, but do you seek the queen?"

Crono hesitated. "No, not a queen. But I am searching for somebody in this land."

Crono sensed the stranger grin as he turned away.

"Typical. I'd expect no less from an agent of the king. How carefully you carry out missions in stealth. No sense hiding your purpose from me, friend. We share the same path."

Crono guardedly studied the man. He must have been an assassin hired by one of the men from the other tavern who heard Crono speak Magus' name. Crono slowly and tightly clutched the blade hidden in his robes, and braced himself as he carefully noted the man's movements. "What do you want?" Crono demanded. "Why would you think I'm looking for a queen?"

"It's obvious," the man replied. "You're a ranger. Nobody in town owns such a fine blade. The one you happen to be gripping. Let go of your sword, boy. I mean you no harm." Stunned, Crono stared at the man. Crono had deliberately concealed his sword arm in his robes, but the stranger saw right through. "That's what rangers do in Guardia. We stick together because, frankly, most folk openly despise us. You're a youngster and obviously new at this, so I thought you might need some help."

It suddenly occurred to Crono it would be a good idea to assume another identity in his search for Nadia. He certainly couldn't tell anyone he came from the future. The ranger title would work.

"Give me your drink," the man whispered to Crono, "and I'll tell you what I know."

Crono didn't know if the stranger still spoke of the lost queen or Nadia, but Crono disliked ale, so he handed over his glass without question. "Sure. I can use all the help I can get."

Lightning quick, the stranger snatched the alcohol, and downed half of it in one gulp. He wiped his mouth and placed his hand on Crono's arm. "You have no idea how long it's been since I had a decent drink," he said quietly, as if afraid someone might be listening. "Thank you." He pulled back his hood, and revealed himself in the gentle candlelight of the tavern. Unruly brown hair fell away from his face and shadowed his goatee beard and scars. Evidently in the prime of his life, he appeared neither young nor old. His eyes flashed darkly, at times appearing gray in the soft glow of the tavern firelight, and two swords as sharp as their master's grin glimmered across his back.

"The name's Toma," the man stated. "I've been investigating the disappearance of Queen Leene. But the henchmen of the Dark Lord are an elusive bunch. For several days it feels like I've been chasing smoke. Recently I discovered something that might be of interest to you, friend." Toma thoughtfully scratched his chin. "Well, I remember something anyway." He slowly picked up a pipe and lit it with a flint rock. He took a few puffs as Crono guessed that might be what stunted his memory. Toma set the pipe on the bar, knelt down to whisper to Crono, and made sure nobody else could hear. "I don't know who you are, kid, and I've not the faintest idea why they'd send a boy for this. The king trusts you, so I too will trust you. The Queen of Guardia was last seen visiting the Manoria Cathedral to the west, beyond the highlands. I haven't figured out how to enter the church, and I'm certainly not going to try now, not with the recent rumors."

Crono gazed into his eyes. "What rumors? Why wouldn't you go into the cathedral?"

Toma's mysterious grey eyes twinkled. "Because the Dark Lord nears. Last night, a great battle took place in the Black Marshes, and I know the Dark Lord passed this way very recently." Toma sat down next to Crono, gazed at the bar, and clasped his hands in front of him. "The battle began after King Guardia and other rangers like you and me discovered Queen Leene missing. Someone spotted the Dark Lord himself just north of the imperial heights near Darkwood and the Black Marshes. The king chose me to lead an expedition into the marshes, but I tried to convince him that sending knights directly to the Dark Lord may bode ill. Truth be told, kid, nobody can kill the Dark Lord." The ranger sadly shook his head. "But did King Guardia listen to old Toma? No, Sir. He ordered an attack at nightfall and sent a troop of forty fully-armed knights with me as the tracker, from Guardia Castle all the way to the Black Marshes, where the Dark Lord sought we know not what. We just knew he approached, and the king considered it a perfect time to strike out at the enemy."

Toma went silent as he recounted the memory of that gruesome battle. His dark eyes seemed haunting in the firelight. "I'm the only one who returned alive. I've never seen such power in my life. Like standing in the presence of death. I never thought I'd feel warm again. Forty against one, and the Dark Lord killed them all. I survived only because of something that appeared in the mountains last night distracted him."

Crono apprehensively swallowed. "What? How did you escape?"

Toma faintly smiled. "I think an angel, kid. Even now, I don't know what, but I believe it would answer all the mysteries surrounding the Dark Lord's appearance here. I played dead on the battlefield as the Dark Lord approached me and pointed a scythe at my neck. Suddenly a beam of blue light shot out of the mountain and lit up the night. I never discovered the Dark Lord's reason for sticking around, but I know he stayed in the marshes even after sunrise. I'm not sure where the blue light originated or what it meant, but it stopped the Dark Lord. And so he spared my life, not out of mercy surely, but probably so I can recite the story I'm telling you now. He cast his mark on the waters, turned around, and disappeared back into his castle. No one saw Magus after that." Toma dared speak the name with his voice lowered. "I just know they're holding Queen Guardia captive somewhere in that cathedral, and not just . . ."

Suddenly a man burst through the front doors, caused an uproar and interrupted Toma. "They found her! They found her at last! They found the Queen of Guardia! She's alive! Praise the heavens!"

Toma instantly stood and faced the man. "They have? Where?"

"Atop the mountain!" he replied. "Up north, in the pocket of a canyon beyond the Black Marshes! Lord Evanheart and his men discovered her earlier this morning when out on patrol. She wandered the mountain alone, in an area where the goblins have been driven out."

Toma crossed his arms. "That doesn't add up. What was she doing up north?"

The man shrugged uncertainly. "There's been no word yet. But that matters little. Queen Leene lives and has been safely escorted back to the castle. We called off the search, Toma. We no longer require your services."

Toma turned back to his ale and chuckled. "Cursed luck. I could have sworn she holed up at the cathedral west. Maybe I'm losing my touch."

The pocket of a canyon up north, Crono thought to himself after hearing the report. That's where Nadia and I appeared! Perhaps the knights found Nadia as well and took her to the castle. That's why he couldn't find her anywhere in the village, he excitedly reasoned. She's in Guardia Castle! Perhaps safe in one of the servant quarters. His next road would lead to Guardia Castle.

Rising to his feet and gripping his sword, Crono turned to face Toma to ask the safest road west from the village. But the ranger no longer sat next to him. Instead, Toma leaned over the counter. "Come now, dear Emily Zenan, did I ever tell you your eyes gleam like Zaida Falls? It's true!"

Crono almost laughed as he watched Toma attempt to charm the barmaid, who appeared disgusted.

"That's not going to work on me anymore, Toma. As far as I'm concerned, it's over between us. Go find another girl."

The ranger looked betrayed. "You can't leave me like this! We may never see each other again after I march to war!"

Emily firmly gripped his shoulder. "Well, you better come back, because if you don't that huge tab of yours will never get paid."

Toma touched her hand, and his love-filled eyes suddenly belied the rough smile on his weather-worn face. It was a devotion Crono recalled from his childhood. His parents shared that very same look when they gazed into each other's eyes.

Emily blushed and turned away as if trying to banish a familiar feeling. "Don't think when you look at me that way, I'm going to give you any more ale! You're lucky that man over there gave you his drink, because it's the last you'll have if you don't start making more money!"

Toma grumbled. "I can't begin another journey without my fix. It's just . . . not right!" Then Toma noticed Crono heading for the door and jumped to his feet. "You with the hair!" When Crono turned around, Toma held up his drink and grinned. "Here's to you, kid." He downed the last of his ale. "Good luck in your travels, friend! Everyone at Zenan Lodge will be rooting for ya."

Crono faintly smiled as everyone in the tavern groaned with unenthused shrugs. "Yeah, we're all thrilled," said a half-conscious patron.

"I'll see you around, Toma," Crono stated. "Good luck in your next journey."

Toma waved goodbye with an empty mug still in his hand. "Thanks, kid. Hate to drink and run, but you know how it is. The next one is on me!"

Crono suspected Toma had no money to begin with. He watched as the ranger readjusted his pack and departed the tavern, then set off into the village, probably to seek another tavern to swindle.

"I really wish he'd settle down," Emily said as she came up next to Crono, and wiped Toma's mug with a spare cloth. "All that drinking and gambling will get a man nowhere. Sometimes I wonder if he ever will change for me."

Crono looked off into the distance. "I've seen that same look in my father's eyes. It's a glance a man gives only to the woman he truly loves."

She rolled her eyes. "You have no idea."

Crono heartily chuckled. "I'd let Toma have another chance. He may seem a little crazy, but I'm sure it's only because he's crazy about you."

Emily smiled and nodded. "I will think about it. Come back and see us again."

Crono waved in parting and headed out.

"Goodbye! Remember, we're always open." Emily shouted after him as he disappeared into the mist.

Crono felt much better now, both from some food and rest and from also knowing where to find Nadia. He followed the northern roadway that led to the hills, told the guards to let him through the gates, and then continued towards Guardia Castle. West of him, the cloudy leaden highlands rolled upwards into the stormy skies. Across the murky grounds, the ruined stumps of old trees jutted out of the wildernss, and stark grass and dead leaves overspread the terrain. The stench of the gurgling Black Marshes, the ghostly white touch of the fog, and the sight of floating deadwood upon muddy streams assailed his senses as he listened to the familiar thrum of the ocean waves that cascaded onto the earthen banks miles south of him.

The distance to the castle beyond the looming expanse of the Lazaren foretold a long journey. Dismal brambles choked the tree-lined roadway as it stretched into the empty gloom in sodden carpets, and gray sunlight shone dully on the rough bark and moss that clung in dark patches to the massive trees.

The mist slowly thinned as Crono reached the edge of the highlands, and he glanced over his shoulder to study his distant village and its red fiery beacons from the gloom. He sat down on a rock, stared into the horizon, and watched the hazy shadows of the guards atop the walls of Truce Village, and the mist that ominously hung about its base. Will I ever see home again? Crono knew nothing of time travel's portals and even less about history. His mind strayed to his best friend. "You better keep your promise, Luca," Crono whispered. "I need you here."

Slowly he started across the highlands, scaled the pale hills and forgotten roads that led westward, and stayed vigilant for any creatures in the mist. The stark trees rose against the black heavens, scraped the clouds, and formed twisted shadows that deepened as Crono traveled the land where sunlight did not reach. He kept his eyes moving and his ears alert as he breathed in the cold air and watched the fog slither its stealthy way along the somber trees and hills. A discordant echo of strange creaks arose from the dark as though a hidden force watched from the unseen tip of the woods.

The highlands stretched away in a vast unyielding sea of white haze as Crono glimpsed hollow skulls and bones stuck in the ground. Reminded of the Black Marshes, Crono increased his pace through the heavy mist, and wished to never see this land again. The cold deepened and the light waned as fog coiled tenaciously around his body and across the land like spectral hands of fallen souls that sought to claim the life of those who dared cross and never returned.

Crono tightly clutched Nadia's pendant as the wind picked up. "I will never give up on you," he promised as he determinedly followed the twists and turns of the land's deadly roads that steadily wound across Guardia. The deeper he walked, the chiller and blacker the day became, and eventually he stopped in an intertwining grove to build a small campfire and chase away the cold. Sick at heart, he stared into the flames, drew his knees to his chest, and drifted through the memories of the festival and how his life changed in so short a time. He grew sleepy by the warm comforting fire, then jerked upright suddenly. He must not fall asleep here. When he closed his eyes for that moment, he felt Luca close by and instinctively looked up. But he saw no one, and logic told him his best friend remained far away. With a weary sigh, Crono kicked out the fire, grappled to his feet, and pressed on.

Everywhere Crono looked, the land sickened and died amidst shadows that darkened and froze. Shaped by fierce winds and time, weathered stones dominated the grass and small valleys. Mountains overshadowed the northern horizon, where the solitary and enduring Castle of Guardia beckoned from the vast sprawling forestland that formed its doorstep. Even from that faraway place, Crono felt the warmth of the fortress call out to him through his weariness and uncertainty. When he reached the end of the highlands, he started feeling closer to Nadia.

Through the cold curtain of the land's mist, a barely discernible path snaked through a wall of great trees that rose up in a mossy wall of green and black. Nearing Darkwood Forest, Crono shivered at the realization he must pass through it. He turned northward, and carefully picked his way over fallen logs and jagged rocks as he approached a patch of interlocking trees. He watched as the afternoon sun rose into the sky and burned away scraps of fog. Within the forested canopy, a pathway broadened along the scrub brush and fallen timber, where warm sunlight softly flooded through cracks in the interwoven branches overhead and lit the woodland floors.

Dozens of wide clearings pocketed the patch of woods. The earth grew soft and loose here, empty of rock and carpeted with layers of small twigs and leaves that rustled and gently cracked as Crono's leather boots pressed against them. Despite its proximity to the forests in which Crono's father died, he felt strangely comfortable in this place. The little woodland sanctuary reminded him of 1000 A.D. How he missed his home, the tumbling echoes from the nearby river, and the drip of rainfall that speckled the leafy trees of his homeland. Crono cautiously knelt down near the stream that lazily flowed across his path, cupped the fresh water in his hands, and drank slowly.

He proceeded deeper into the trees and through the great wall of green and black that served as the gateway to Darkwood Forest. At times he caught brief glimpses of Guardia Castle through the widespread branches of the forest limbs. Its towering gray walls rose above the land and sliced into the heavens as if to sunder the black clouds that gripped the skies. He silently walked with his eyes fixed to the terrain beyond the deep forest. No more than a few feet from Darkwood's entrance, Crono stopped as a sudden language erupted from behind a wall of trees. Orc voices, he realized at once. They bellowed low and guttural even in the faint mist. Crono foresaw trouble and pulled free his first real weapon. The brilliant sword unsheathed in a trill of rings that echoed as his most favorite sound. He always wanted to hear that! But the screams of dying orcs would prove even sweeter.

A moment later, a troop of orcs, five in all, emerged from the forest trees, and halted when they noticed the red-haired human wielding a sword. The trailing orcs bumbled into the forward orcs when the squad stopped. Then the lead orc pulled out his rusty blade and glanced around as if to reassure himself five outnumbered Crono's one.

The leader looked at the young swordsman with colorless eyes and a razor sharp grin. His purple tongue flickered out to lick green lips. "Never thought we'd eat human this morning!"

"You're capable of thought?" Crono asked.

The orc darkly glared at Crono's comment, and his every word resounded a low growl. "This forest falls under my rule, scum! Orcs patrol the woods now, and it's only a matter of time before we take the castle!"

"The only thing you're going to take is a hike out of here. Now step aside."

The foul orcs roared, and their threatening eyes emptied of mercy as their leader angrily pointed at Crono. "You will show me the same respect you would give your new Lord of Guardia! This land belongs to Magus! We total but few of the hundreds that dwell in the woods. You'll never make it through alive!" The orc sneered. "How pleased Magus will be when we offer another mortal head to adorn his gates! Red hair with eyes gouged out would suit the ramparts of the Black Fortress!"

Crono yawned. "And your face suits you. You're so ugly, your mother had to feed you with a slingshot."

"Does your sword flash as swiftly as your tongue?" the orc shouted. "Time to fight now, coward! Our Lord thirsts for human blood!"

Crono smirked. "Five against one. If this represents the courage of Magus' followers, I'm not afraid of your so-called Lord."

The now fully enraged orcs charged at Crono with weapons at the ready. The young warrior did not flinch. Brandishing his sword, he attacked with such ferocity the stunned orcs drew back in fear. Crono spun into them with the force of a mob, aimed for their strongest, slammed the hilt of his weapon into the orc's head, and knocked him down. Silver light flashed from Crono's whirling strikes as he scattered the rest of the demons, then jumped upward to thrust his blade through the leader's black heart. Overwhelmed by Crono's speed and deadliness, the orc could only peer up at Crono in disbelief and spurt blood from his mouth.

In fury only bloodshed could silence, the four remaining orcs maddeningly howled from the death of their leader, then rallied at once to stampede the boy. Crono allowed them to approach within a few yards before he dove to the side, landed in the dense bushes of Darkwood Forest, and momentarily disappeared. The orcs guardedly searched in the mist before Crono poked his head out of the bushes. "Boo!"

Startled and angered all over again, the orcs positioned themselves in a semicircle to prevent Crono from escaping the enclosing trees and then they rushed at him. But just as their axes descended to take the boy's life, Crono quickly dodged the attack and their weapons impaled the bark of a giant oak. Then the agile fighter propelled himself from the ground and cleanly severed two orc heads. The remaining orcs fled as Crono bellowed and ran after them. One of the orcs had pulled out a horn and blew into it as he fled to warn his brethren of the northern forests, just as the goblins had in Kelvenforge. Crono immediately tried to silence the horn as his blade flashed and whirled in deathly light. He caught up to the pair and killed them instantly, but as he glanced up ten more orcs charged out of the trees to avenge their fallen comrades.

Axes, maces, swords and spears, Crono sidestepped and deflected them all, cast down every weapon that came against him, and ended lives faster than he ever believed possible. Like the whirlwind of a thousand silver swords, Crono dashed into the troops, effortlessly pivoted, spun in a dizzying flow of fighting brilliance that slammed their weapons aside, pierced their black hearts, and closed in for kills. His bloodstained sword rose up and cut a line of death through the rest as orc bodies slumped to the ground.

After the fight, the warrior from another age wiped off and sheathed his weapon, then continued on through Darkwood Forest. This final road led to Nadia. But he traveled only a short distance before he picked up another sound from the north. Across the gloom, the faint echoes of trampling feet and harnesses thundered. Crono could not distinguish the sounds at first, but they grew clearer. Horsemen, drawn to the orc horn. A patrol of seven faceless riders materialized out of the gloom and formed a tight ring of red, black and silver around Crono Zenan. A deadly circle. All with lances pointed at his throat.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter IV—Stay Clear of the Shadows

Pale crimson moonlight hauntingly trickled from the heavens to vex the silent night. It illuminated the skeletal trees and the sea of storm clouds that formed their leaden cast over the Land of Guardia. A fierce wind shook the air and conveyed an unknown power as it swept through Zaida Forest. Through the night, the forest wind howled and swirled like the pieces of a shattered dream that woke from the earth. Trees bent before its might, clouds faded fast, and the waters of Zaida Falls slowly glowed in a strange blue light.

In the pocket of a canyon, surrounded by trees and towering cliffs that pierced the sky, a small army of mystics advanced. The organized group had marched through the entire night, and they intended to meet with the goblin encampments on the other side of the mountain. After that, they would raze the Village of Truce and burn it to ashes.

The only rest Man will find is death, the leading mystic darkly thought. His hypnotic yellow eyes searched the land for movement. One by one, the master would destroy all humans, and with the witch haunting and feasting on any that dare pass into Darkwood or walk the western bridge, Magus would soon reign. Then he suddenly sensed something unusual in the wind, something that pulsed in the night. The mystic leader halted his army in the clearing and carefully listened.

Silent as a shadow, the unseen force expanded among the forest trees in ethereal waves like the ripples of hidden life waking beneath the ocean. Nobody could decipher it.

The leading mystic held up his hand for silence as his lantern eyes scanned the grounds. The others awaited his command.

"What force could move the wind so?" one small green mystic asked. "Does the Master come?"

"Be silent!" the leader snapped. "I sense something else. Not magic."

"I see nothing," another added.

They held up their swords and small iron shields, which bore the mark of a black scythe that gleamed in the crimson glow of night. Gray horns twisted above small pointed ears as the mystics awaited the otherworldly presence that stirred in the clearing.

"What are your orders?" one mystic asked. "Do we wait or continue? How much further to the camp?"

"Strange," the leader uncertainly spoke. "We should have arrived already." He glanced around, and his brow knit in confusion. "The encampment disappeared! Where did the goblins go? But I'm certain they camped here, right in this clearing." Suddenly the mystic growled. On the ground several goblins lay dead with cracked bones and crushed skulls. "Spread out!" the mystic leader shouted as his eyes defensively darted back and forth. "Hide behind the trees! A human nears. He will show himself. Let us avenge our brethren. On my command, you will kill this mortal and all who walk beside him!"

As he spoke, the mystics sensed a new presence and braced themselves as the wind sprang forth. They cowered when the darkness of the night swirled like living liquid, then formed into a sphere of unnatural blue energy that unleashed lightning into the sky and echoed a thunderous boom across the land in a fierce wave of power. Instinctively the mystics fell back against it, and became momentarily blinded by the azure light. Patches of blue flame lit the dead grass as the sphere intensified and transformed into a doorway. From the portal, a young man emerged. He seemed entirely unharmed despite lightning enveloped him.

He brushed back a lock of black hair, and passively regarded the mystics as he placed a strange device in his jacket pocket. "A beautiful night," the stranger in black calmly noted. He glanced at his surroundings. "Do any you fine gentleman know the best way off the mountain? Preferably a road that circumvents the marshes and doesn't involve too much hassle? I could use some assistance."

The mystics relaxed and felt relieved at discovering only a slender human boy. The leader stepped forward. "Who are you?"

The stranger raised an eyebrow. "I'm God. Who the hell are you?"

The mystic glared. "What business do you have on the mountain? We do not welcome your kind here! You killed these goblins! Prepare to die for your treachery, mortal!"

Luca Devir stretched his cramped muscles. "Prepare for it? All right, how much time will you give me?"

The mystics gripped their blades together. Their eyes reflected anger and hatred as their ears twitched. "Only those who serve the black will of Magus may walk Kelvenforge! You pass uninvited!" Luca pulled out a compass and checked his location, then removed a small black journal and wrote down some notes. "Did you not hear me, human!?" the mystic shrieked and pointed threateningly. "I speak to you! You will answer my questions!"

Luca glanced up. "Remarkable. Even the course of centuries has little effect on the manners of a mystic. Do you practice your own teachings? Because you still haven't answered my question. What's the best way off the mountain?"

The mystic fumed so that he couldn't speak.

"Your knowledge of the land would prove invaluable," Luca announced softly as he touched a tree. "Even though you murdered innocent people to assume command over a territory you plan to burn anyway, you still have a chance to redeem yourself and save many more lives, including your own. All you must do is help me. What do you say?"

The mystic glared. "I say we kill you where you stand."

Luca shrugged. "I have no time for dying. I must find my friend."

The mystic sharply grinned. "You will not be leaving this mountain alive. We have other plans for you, mortal! Your life belongs to us! For the glory of Magus!"

The mystic raised an axe then and charged at Luca. Luca sighed. The leader's head suddenly split open and he dropped dead to the ground. Shocked, the other mystics froze in absolute horror. The black-clad stranger had pulled out a metal device from a holder on his belt, pointed it at the mystic, and a huge bang resounded through the trees. How could their strongest have died so quickly?

Luca placed his gun back onto his belt and stepped closer. The mystics immediately backed away. "What are you?"

"You know, it's interesting," Luca ominously said as his dark eyes pierced theirs. "I've been traveling for four hundred years, and I'd really like to see my friend. If any of you fine . . ."

Another mystic lunged at Luca and Luca, quicker than lightning, shot him in the face.

". . . gentlemen would lead me off this mountain, I will again consider sparing the rest of you," Luca announced without pausing.

One of the mystics stomped angrily. "We would never aid a human! Lord Magus will decide your doom, mortal! All of us would rather die than side with a human as low and disgusting as you!"

Luca nodded in agreement. "I would respond likewise to an enemy. What you say sounds both wise and true."

The mystics looked confused. "What do you mean, human? You speak nonsense!"

Luca crossed his arms. "Due to the harsh nature of your hatred towards human beings, wisdom says you would rather die than side with them." His blue eyes shone as sharp and cold as ice, and his voice lowered. "I wouldn't want to live either if someone arrived from the future and told me that everything I lived and fought for was in vain. Tomorrow is such a beautiful mystery, don't you agree? It never existed and it will always exist. Nobody sees it, and no one ever will, yet people who live on the earth hope for it.

Lucky for you, I have come to take away your tomorrows, and you will never have to worry."

"How is it possible?" another mystic asked.

Luca's eyes wickedly twinkled. "None of you will ever have to live in a land where humans rule, where men triumph over all your twisted dreams. In your tomorrow and mine, your master will fall. The dawn comes for you. Its light will be your nightmare. Be at peace, you wicked things. Only in death will you find it."

Luca quickly pulled out two guns and fired, then continued shooting down the mystics where they stood, and never missed a shot. The volley of his gunfire pierced the night as the mystics tried to flee. Some even tried to attack the stranger in black, but each bullet struck their hearts as Luca Devir slowly walked into the melee and decimated the army in a matter of seconds. After the bloodletting, he twirled the guns on his index fingers and brought both to his lips and blew out the smoke, then slipped the guns back into his holsters before starting down Kelvenforge to Truce Village.

"Hang in there, Crono," he whispered into the night. "I'm on my way."

Standing alone in the ring of lances, Crono Zenan considered fighting the faceless horsemen. Behind them, the trees of Darkwood Forest somberly jutted into the cursed skies, and a fell wind blew the damp leaves with the chilled scent of the ocean miles south of them. Large boulders, sodden by the deep mist and seaway breeze, dotted the expanse of the wilderness, where the towering riders gazed down at Crono. Upon the horsemens' chests, and richly emblazoned in gold, even in the mist, shone the insignia of the lion. Crono felt no animosity toward the defenders of his people. Not that he could ever hope to win, he reminded himself, not against knights of Guardia.

"You have a strong sword arm," a knight with gold-enmeshed chainmail stated as he gestured at the dead orc bodies strewn across the highlands. His horse breathed heavily under its armor. The knight removed his helmet. "But what fate led you this close to Darkwood Forest, young man?" Crono gaped at the horseman, and admired the bright crimson mark of the lion on his chest as he thought this man might be Lord Cyrus.

"Who are you?" Crono asked as if dreaming.

The knight did not hesitate. Against the stirring storm clouds and flashing crimson lightning in the western skies, he stood tall. "I am Evanheart, Captain of the Knights of Guardia. I order you to answer my question. Why have you left Truce Village? It is illegal for commoners to travel with the roads unsafe at this time. You have violated the law, boy. Explain yourself, state your purpose, or be gone. My patience already wanes." He spoke almost threateningly as he descended from his horse with a flap of his brilliant red cape. Heavy chainmail clinked with a faint ring as he weightlessly landed. Dark black hair fell away from his scarred face and shaded blue eyes and pale skin. A commanding presence radiated from the intensity of his gaze.

Crono quickly spoke this time. "I'm searching for my friend. I heard from the townsfolk that knights, I'm guessing you gentlemen, discovered your queen safe in Kelvenforge earlier this morning.

Like her majesty Leene, my friend was last seen in the canyons north of here, and I wanted to see if . . ."

"We found only Queen Leene wandering the mountain." Evanheart cut Crono short. Behind them, the white mist weaved like ghosts between the ashen trees. "You have no right to wander the highlands. The queen has been safely returned to the castle, and I've ordered more security in Truce. We have reason to believe an assault amasses north of us and we must stay vigilant to protect this land. This requires us to challenge anyone who comes within twenty miles of the castle, even those who appear human in our eyes. And we especially don't want any spies of the Dark Lord roaming the highlands, inquiring about the queen." Evanheart glared at Crono, and his eyes flashed with unmistakable distrust.

Crono shook his head, then snapped out of his reverie. "My sword strikes the same foe as yours, kind sirs." He glanced around at the knights, but they did not appear convinced. "Please, I must find my friend! I'm telling you the truth. Would a spy of the Dark Lord kill his own kind?" Crono gestured to the dead orcs surrounding them.

Captain Evanheart studied Crono for a long time, and tried to read past his words, then wearily sighed. "Lower your weapons, men. The boy poses no threat."

They put aside their lances, and Crono nodded in thanks. The captain quickly resumed their conversation. In the distance, the powerful drone of ocean waves washed across the highlands. "Your friend might be near here, lad, but I regret to inform you she may be dead."

Crono hesitated. "How did you know my friend is a girl?"

Evanheart stoically regarded Crono, and his rutted scars twisted with his face into a glower. "I did not survive this long without intuition. Your eyes suggest both your impulsiveness and bravery, undertaking this dangerous task, and only love for a woman prompts the heart that strongly." He studied the earth for a time, then placed a firm reassuring hand on Crono's shoulder. "Were we not subject to the strife of this age, my lad, I might consider granting you passage under my authority to protect and serve in the name of Guardia. But too many foul creatures lurk in the trees. Even now they hunt us, orcs and other dark beasts you cannot see until too late. Your friend may have met with the same fate."

"You're wrong, Captain," Crono stated. "You doubt my friend's strength as you would doubt mine. I know she's alive and until I know for certain she has died, I will not stop until I find her."

For the first time since they met, Captain Evanheart smiled. "You mean to continue into those woods? And you would go without fear?" Crono nodded slowly, confused. The knight's cloak billowed in a mysterious wind as he spoke. "Then you have not heard the tale of the ghost that dwells in the woods, the spirit of a long-dead witch who haunts the forest, possessed by revenge and hatred that slaked not even when she died."

Crono curiously gazed up at him. He vaguely remembered hearing a story about a witch, but he couldn't recall where. "What is she? Does she have a name?"

The captain nodded. "We call her the Malordra Witch. A servant of Magus in life and remains now in death, she sacrificed her soul and exists in limbo. She doesn't walk the forest or float in the air, but passes through the trees in black mist. Rumor says she lurks in a hollow somewhere in a clearing of the forest, a place burning with purple flame. She watches for anyone who dares pass through the woods, devouring her victims to remind herself of the life she left behind and to torture the people of Guardia. All who enter alone never return again. By passing through, one must first know the way, and judging by the looks of you, I assume you're not from around here."

Crono glanced off into a black horizon that flickered with crimson light. "She sounds like a nightmare . . ."

"The worst of all spawn," Evanheart said as his voice cut into an edge. "Her soul reeks with the essence of every demon she ritualistically embraced in her yearning to become like Magus. I suppose only a nightmare can embody her now in death." Evanheart paused, and the cold breeze swished his thick hair. "This girl you seek, she must mean a lot to you if you've come all this way."

Crono peered into his eyes. "I've traveled a lot, and have fought many beasts. I will see her safely home." His eyes lowered. "I couldn't admit it to her, so I'll say it to you, captain. I'm in love with her, and I don't know why. But her pendant crossed my path for a reason."

Evanheart smiled. "You speak beautifully, my friend. I treasure finding young love again, as its power denies the fear of death itself."

Crono nodded yes. "I lost my father to these woods. I'm not about to lose Nadia. I request only to find her. I've come too far to turn back now." An idea sprang into Crono's mind. Before thinking, he blurted it out. "What if I destroyed the Malordra Witch for you? If I defeat her and set these forests free of her haunting, will you grant me passage to Guardia Castle?"

Evanheart studied Crono. He knew he would be sending the boy to his death. The captain took a deep breath. The echo of seagulls reached the highlands from the southern shore. "The witch has been defending her home for ages, and woe to those who venture there." He thoughtfully glanced across Guardia and the sharp gray grasslands.

"How did she die?" Crono asked. "I mean, what happened to her? Why did she become evil?"

Evanheart frowned. "The tale of Elvira is a sad story." He noticed a surprised look on Crono's face. "Yes, people called her Elvira. A middle-aged widow, the older sister of my brother's wife Fiona. I knew her once when my brother still lived." Evanheart shook his head sadly. "She died many years ago, over on the Bridge of Fatality, just as the name suggests. The bridge bears that name because of the witch." He gestured in the direction of the bridge, then looked towards the ocean. "She lived once in the southern isles, in a wooden home near the desert where her younger sister still lives to this day. She was called the Malordra Witch when Guardia's people discovered she followed Magus."

He sighed softly. "Elvira received a fair trial, but the evidence clearly convicted her. Even though Fiona and my brother stood on her behalf, I knew she had an evil heart. Unwilling to go peacefully, she escaped from the courtroom in a flash of black smoke. I guarded the doors there that day and remember it all clearly. The soldiers and townsfolk were determined to kill her, and chased her across the land." Then Evanheart pointed to the bridge that stretched southward across the sea until lost from sight. Wonder reflected in his eyes. "Elvira ran far to the north, away from the village, land and people who wanted her dead, all the way from the desert to the Bridge of Fatality." He shook his head slowly. "But she made it only halfway to her goal. When her pursuers caught up with her, the witch conjured one final spell. She killed every man and woman on the bridge, even my younger brother, who wanted only to help her. The midsection of the bridge shattered and remains crumbled to this day. She cursed the bridge's name, vowing in death that whosoever attempts to pass the bridge, like herself, would not live to reach the other side."

Evanheart paused. "With the bridge cursed, my friend, people die just going near the place. And thus we never rebuilt it. The people of Guardia thought it best to keep it incomplete so that no others need die." He glanced eastward. "We found the witch's body floating in the ocean a few days later. The knights that found her buried her in Darkwood Forest, but because of our failure to understand what magic would counter it, her curse continues."

Crono stepped forward. "Then I will remain vigilant against this ghost and do what I can to destroy her. I'll come back alive and your brother will be avenged."

Evanheart hopefully smiled, and a faint sparkle of fondness gleamed in his eye. "If you're determined to confront the witch, then go with the grace of all men."

Crono saluted him, then turned northward, but before he could leave the captain grabbed him by the shoulder. "Not so fast. We have not yet caught your name, fearless warrior. What might it be?"

"The name is Crono Zenan," he responded. "If you've never heard it before, you will hear it again."

The captain grinned a little at this boast and signaled his men to stand aside.

"We, the Knights of Guardia, allow you passage, Sir Zenan," Evanheart announced. The captain appeared as a tall sentinel figure as enduring as the old stone castle that swept above the distant forests behind him. "Rid our land of this witch, avenge my kin and all others, and you shall gain eternal passage through our gates and the forest. May fate smile on you to the end of time, Crono Zenan." Crono thanked him once more. "Oh and Sir Zenan," Evanheart said just as Crono reentered the woods. "Stay clear of the shadows," were the last words Crono heard from him then. Crono passed through the knights and reassuringly placed his hand upon his new sword as he walked into the darkness of the northern trees.

The atmosphere bleakened at once as Crono stepped into the enshrouding trees. As though darkness buried the hope of dawn ever reaching this place, the mist thickened and the air grew colder. Withered branches entwined together above him as they mournfully stretched across a forest wilderness that lay empty of sound and movement. And somewhere in the stirring shadows, watching from the void, blood-red eyes menacingly gleamed as they fixed upon Crono Zenan.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter V—Fatality Take You

Afternoon shadows hauntingly stirred across the Land of Guardia. The sky flashed with lightning as storm clouds ominously sailed across its thundering sweep. In Darkwood Forest, faint gray sunlight shone in a hazy glow before the clouds screened it away. Crows leered in dark havens amid the dense entangling trees, and remained as silent as the gloom that cloaked the life in the woods. Eventually, the wind died into stillness and the darkness of Magus' curse growled with hunger. The dismal trees seemed somehow born from a twisted dream as mist slowly shrouded and swirled. The dispiriting doorstep of King Guardia's castle, Darkwood Forest stood as a cold gathering of black thorns, skeletal trees and dead bushes that obscured the road that Crono Zenan followed. The air smelled of fetid water, and brushed coldly at the skin. Beyond the interwoven branches of the trees, clouds sunk so low they closed away the light and buried the hope of life.

The land whispered of silent dangers. Beneath its trees, Crono's heartbeat quickened with the uneasy but certain knowledge that swift and unmerciful death waited here. Gray clouds sullenly hung across the forest rooftops, and beyond a wall of trees and darkness, a boy with long red hair passed alone into the wood's empty heart. Crono Zenan cautiously traveled north as he marched ahead with the unfounded but persistent belief that Nadia waited for him in Guardia Castle. He expected to catch sight of the castle or at least the road that led to it soon.

But then he realized he might be headed the wrong way. Maybe the road familiar to him in his time had not yet been built. A world could change over four hundred years. He berated himself for not asking Captain Evanheart the safest road through the trees. Even if he recognized anything, the trees interlocked so tightly he barely found any sunlight to guide him.

Evanheart warned him to stay clear of the shadows, but he might as well have told Crono not to get wet when he swam! Everywhere he looked, mist swirled in hazy dreamlike patterns, and tenaciously clung to the groves. Crono's mind told him he traveled a considerable distance north after his conversation with Evanheart, but the more he walked, the more he sensed his travels led him nowhere. Did the trees change? At times he thought he noticed the forest shift somehow, as if guiding him with a will of its own. Crono sensed hidden magic, a cloaked will bent by the power of the witch who shaded the light and created paths that frightened and confused the unwary. Crono shook his head to clear it and tried to believe he followed the right track. He simply needed to continue north. Since he had grown up in Guardia, how could he possibly end up turned around following such simple directions? The castle spread over more area than the forest, so how could he not yet see the castle? From Darkwood's entrance he could make it out; why not here? Did someone or something deceive him? To test his theory, he cut off a small piece of his bandana and placed it on a large rock. A few minutes later, he encountered the same stone again. It held the strand of his bandana. Chillingly, he realized the forest led him in circles.

The witch pursued him, he knew, as he headed in another direction. The plush sounds of the earth echoed under his feet. In the gloom, trunks and leaves glittered and seemed to exist only because of dormant magic.

Fallen logs marked the roads ahead, and pallid streams shimmered like spider webs in the pale half-light. In a small woodland clearing, Crono heard soft laughter. Unexpectedly reminded of the portal that brought him here, Crono felt he walked in a cloud-swept forest of his own memories. He heard the voice whispering to him, indistinct and gossamer as light.

Fragments of incomplete sentences echoed from the shadows as he walked. They sounded like Nadia's voice.

 _I called out . . . You weren't there, Crono._

Crono stopped and stared into a dark puddle as the voice spoke from beneath it.

 _Shadow of memory . . . Child from the blue dawn._

The voice shifted position and echoed from the mist.

 _Disappear into time . . . I will always be here. Watching you._

Crono froze and searched for the voice as his heart beat rapidly.

 _You cannot fight him . . . The flow of time . . . From beyond the mountain . . . He comes for you._

The voice slowly faded into stillness. Out of nowhere, Crono stepped into a new terrain. The mist slowly cleared and swept away by a strong wind that bore the foul stench of the Black Marshes. From the moment Crono felt the wind, he characterized it as unnatural. Mist didn't simply weave between tightly packed trees and reach the very core of the interlocking woods without some impetus. In fact, wind shouldn't even blow here, Crono considered. He stood deep in the forest surrounded by steep highlands and valleys, and beneath cliffs that bordered Guardia Castle. Crono glanced around when a familiar sensation washed over him. Wind did not surround him here. Magic did. Like the black fire he encountered the day before. He smelled the air and studied the land. Everything appeared wrong with this place. The trees carried an unnatural leaden cast faintly lit by a strange lavender glow where flames danced from a draw in the distance.

Crono shuffled ahead, then stopped when he caught sight of a misshapen structure built against the trees in the center of an eerie glade. Countless silent crows stared down from perches high above. A dome of branches and coiled trunks stood before him as if the great trees painfully bent to the will of a hidden force. Dirt, rocks, sticks, raw grass, pine needles and dried leaves carpeted the misty glade on all sides. From the dome's crooked arches, lavender flames burned in the mist, flames that did not fade or radiate heat as usual but resembled the black fire from the marshes. They burned without fuel, smokeless, piercing and hypnotic. The dizzying flow of their light comforted Crono and beckoned him closer. Suddenly Crono felt strangely tired. Then Evanheart's warning struck him like silver lightning through a placid lake, for he realized he stood in the burial grounds of the Malordra Witch.

He forced himself to remain calm as he inched away from the dome, though a voice in his heart screamed for him to flee. While he hoped the witch did not sense his presence, he also knew she had led him here. Crono wielded no magic to fight her. Should a battle ensue, he'd be powerless. He tiptoed as quietly as he could, and kept his presence as hushed as the graveyard through which he passed. The lavender flames slowly burned, and Crono resisted the temptation to gaze into them. The mystic spellbinding fire sparkled on the twisted trunks, flickered through the mist, and invited his eyes. Like an unholy altar that burned in a great sanctuary, it beckoned for Crono's sacrifice.

Crono's deepest fears soon materialized as he reached the northern side of the clearing. He sensed the Malordra Witch drawing closer and momentarily caught sight of a vague shape, hunched over like an old woman, that lurked in the darkness. He knew she would come for him soon, somewhere from the dark as Evanheart warned. Fear gripped him and drove him to walk faster. He scarcely dared to breathe as trickles of sweat slid down his back, and his heart pounded in his ears. Evanheart's stern warning howled through his mind, and the terror of the witch's tale seemed to wrap his soul and body more chillingly than the purple flames that wreathed the haunted glade. Crono resisted glancing back and instead gazed ahead to the shrouding mist beyond the domed gravesite. His breathing became labored and shaky as he sensed the witch's foul eyes on him. If he could just step into the deep mist and intertwining trees, he knew he could break into a run and never look back. He neared the edge of the dreary trees and prepared to dash forward until his legs could carry him no further.

Suddenly he became entangled in a nearly invisible net of spider webs. Their sticky fastenings clutched at his robes from every direction and hampered his retreat. Stinging like poison, the ethereal bindings burned his neck and chest with every movement. Crono gritted his teeth, dug his feet into the ground and charged forward, but a wave of nausea and pain assaulted him with every attempt. He glanced upward to the black looming trees, where crow eyes stared back as he sought a branch to pull himself out of his entrapment, but he found nothing. At first he thought such a gossamer material would surely tear at the slightest movement, but it held him like steel chains.

He sensed rather than heard something approach from behind. He panicked then, struggled against the knots that cut into his skin, fought the pain, thrashed and pulled against the webs, but to no avail. Ahead white mist creepily weaved against the obsidian-colored trees, which gently glimmered in the purple glow of the fire. He managed to twist around to detect the witch approaching from behind. He used what limited fidgeting he could to shift into a defensible stance, but when he glanced into the small clearing of the woods, he found no one. Slightly relieved, Crono reached for his sword, his only hope, then found to his complete horror he could not reach it. Angered now, he pulled with all his strength against the webs, strained his arm muscles to reach out and grab his blade. But he could not break the hold of the fastenings, and the voice of reason convinced him of his imprisonment.

"Who dares pass through my hollow?" shrilled a voice that sounded much like an old woman. The lavender flames brightly glowed and dimmed with the tone of her voice. Crono had only one chance, now, to reason with the witch.

"It is I, Crono Zenan," he explained. "I mean you no harm."

"You pass quite willingly into the hands of death by coming here, mortal of Guardia," she replied. "The warning of elders seems unimportant to you, boy. All should know by now that I welcome no one into this forest! And still," she hissed as her voice softened, "you trespass into my home, trample without regard upon my remains, all with the intention of destroying me."

Crono immediately shook his head no. "I came here only to . . ."

"Liar!" she screeched, the sound of bones grating. "I feel the wind, child, not with the senses of the living. It flails through the trees, fulfilling my will, and it tells me you spoke of my ending. I am now one with the earth beneath which my mortal remains have become sealed. The very nature of the world gives me visions, child. With every shadow that touches the ground, every fell wind that blows the mist from the woods, my eyes watch you. Promises you gave to Captain Evanheart and the Knights of Guardia to undertake my destruction. I have no doubt. You gave your word that my time of limbo would end, and who should come walking into this place but you? Will you bring me to justice, boy?"

The subsequent cackle sent shivers down Crono's spine. "You do not differ," she continued, "speaking only what other men said before. Now you stand in their place, doomed by the same fate as they. Humans!" She spat the name like a curse. "What you pledge in life will shatter by the power I hold now in death! You promised nothing to the knights but another life in my hands! Praise be to Magus!" Slowly the purple flames floated into the air, and circled the dome.

"You cannot fight me, boy. The world belongs to Magus. It's over for men. And now comes the time to die!"

In an instant Crono saw her, a shadow flitting across the purple firelight. He watched her dart through the glow and back to the shadows, so quickly his eyes couldn't follow. A dark outline, she touched the earth momentarily before she slipped back into the gloom where she could attack Crono from any angle. Suddenly she appeared in the purple light as the black mist Captain Evanheart foretold. The enshrouded form slowly approached, and pallid hands lathered in blood reached out from the mist to end Crono's life. He wanted to scream, and struggled with all his might to break free. But no use. The witch advanced while draped in a black void. With a killing spell, her deadly hands began to glow. Crono never felt terror as strongly as at that moment when the ancient mistress of death's twisted skeletal fingers extended to devour his soul.

In the woods where his father died, Crono would have met with a similar demise. But then, in his panic, a solution came to him: The netting that shackled him clung not to his body but only to his robe!

As the black mist approached, Crono quickly tucked his arms against his chest, bent his knees into a crouch, then dropped down and disrobed himself. He spun around as he withdrew his sword and pointed his blade at the Malordra Witch.

The witch nervously laughed a bit, evidently surprised by Crono's evasive unchaining, yet relishing the fact that this prey put up more of a fight than the others. "What chance do you think you have, mortal? I will simply ensnare you again! The strength of humans cannot break my web!"

Hair wild and fierce, Crono's eyes flared. "Well, when you rile me, I don't exactly count as human."

A long moment of silence elapsed as the two faced each other.

"Delay my victory with your jokes as long as you will, Sir Zenan the Damned, but you will not escape this forest alive! Your soul will be mine!"

An ethereal shadow of an old woman surrounded by swirling darkness, the witch launched herself at him. Crono dodged the attack and quickly countered as he cut into the mist. But, just as he thought, the blade cut through the haze and caused no harm. Only magic can stop her, he thought, as he grew more worried. He must escape and reach Guardia Castle, but he would not sacrifice his father's robe, the only thing Crono owned by which to remember him. He scanned his surroundings, the purple flames billowing atop the ancient arches of the bent trees, the dried rocky earth of the clearing, and the withered forest that surrounded the glade on all sides.

An idea sprang to Crono's mind as he gazed into the ghostly white mist that floated beyond the gravesite. He would risk an attempt to trick the witch.

Crono retreated from Elvira at full speed, bounded across the loose ground, then slid into the hollow opening under the dome of dead trees. Inside, once his eyes adjusted, Crono made out a short earthen ramp that led into the depths of the witch's crypt. Perhaps, Crono thought, when the witch rose from the dead all those years ago, she turned the small graveyard into her home, and created a foyer of black soil toward the grave where the knights of Guardia had buried her and her cursed possessions. Much bigger than Crono expected, it seemed the knights wanted to entomb her with as much earth as possible. Though Crono had to crouch to enter, when he stood the room expanded for him. It contained a floor of hard-packed earth, thick twig walls covered in mirrors from floor to ceiling, mirrors that curved to mimic the inner hollow.

Crono gawked and shifted away from the door as the witch appeared before him. For the first time, she unveiled her black mist and stood revealed. The mirrors created magical projections that protected the old woman, and Crono viewed the witch within each rectangle of glass. His heart sank as he made out several twisted bodies of a long-dead ancient widow. Gray colorless skin stretched along her hollowed face, her eye sockets empty. Because each mirror held the same picture, Crono couldn't tell where the witch truly lurked, and he knew the witch, though eyeless, could see more clearly than he through this maze. She blocked his exit and backed him against the crypt walls. Much bigger and stronger than the old woman, Crono knew he could charge right over her, but he cringed at touching something so lurid, an ugly rotting caricature of death that should have disappeared from the world long ago.

Suddenly the hag's skeletal arms waved in small circular motions, and the wind steadily whirled up in small tornadoes. The witch smirked and began what Crono recognized as a spell. He grabbed a rock from the ground and threw it with all his strength. The rock flew through the air and smacked the witch's withered face so hard that she weightlessly launched out of the opening of the crypt and flipped backwards several times from the staggering blow. Without the black mist protecting her, Crono suddenly realized she could be physically struck! Sensing her burning wrath, Crono dived to the side just as the witch angrily swooped back in after him and fired purple lightning that cut through the dome. The spell thundered brilliantly with rich lavender and missed Crono by only inches. Ashen faced, Crono grabbed another stone to fire again, but he stopped as the mirrors rotated into different positions to conceal their mistress once more. The glaring laughing images of the witch appeared again, and she prepared another spell, this one likely more powerful than the last. Crono knew he couldn't leave the crypt and risk open ground, not while Elvira soared above the clearing and shot burning lightning. He would make too easy a target. Dizzied by the spellbinding light of the purple flames reflecting in the mirrors, he glanced around for a new plan.

The floor, Crono thought suddenly, made of earth. Then, as a great lightning bolt zeroed in on him, the agile youth dropped to the floor and scooped up a huge handful of dirt and rocks and cast the debris in a wide arc of stone across the hollow. He sent the rocks flying in all directions at once. For a moment, every image reacted the same way, shattering—all but one, that is, an image that did not break.

"My mirrors!" the witch shrieked with burning fury. "You broke my mirrors!" This time, her black eyes flared blood red, an anger she had never felt in life, death or afterlife! Determined to kill Crono quickly now, the witch thrust out a series of purple lightning bolts in several directions like deadly lances. But she failed to consider one place to throw a spell: The floor, in a tiny corner where the battle-smart Crono knelt. The impact of the witch's fury sent most of her home crumbling into pieces. The weakened trunks of the bent trees suddenly collapsed and buried Crono in the crypt. The demolition created a huge cloud of dust that shot across the forest clearing, and obscured Elvira's vision for a time as she floated near the treetops. Nothing mattered to her more than killing this vandal!

When the dust cleared, the hag surveyed the results of her fatal magic in satisfaction, but then she froze in stunned disbelief. Crono had used the brief dust storm to flee out of her line of sight and escape into the distant interlocking trees where she could not possibly strike him, where he would remain untouched by every spell she cast.

"Impossible," she blurted, realizing he tricked her.

"Have fun cleaning your house!" Crono yelled as he ran away, his voice faint in the distance. "Learn to aim! By the way, you killed most of your crows!"

"No!" she hatefully shrieked and glanced downward to detect the corpses of her precious black birds scattered across the glade. Armed with fury, she spun higher into the air with a scream. Crono sped to reach the edge of the clearing, but just as he cut through the bindings and recovered his father's robe, the witch launched at him! She furiously grabbed him, clutched him by the neck with her clammy white hands, and glared at him with her hollow black eyes. The witch grimly studied him as she clamped him by the throat, and lifted him off his feet with immeasurable strength. "Know this, human. Mercifully I have given men, women, and even children a quick and painless death for trespassing on my domain. You will be the one to suffer at my hand!"

"Suffer this!" Crono yelled as he brought up his sword and drove it through the witch's chest. The blade cut completely through her body, a grinding of bone and sinew rending on steel.

But despite the lethal attack, the Malordra Witch's iron grip did not break and she did not flinch. She simply gazed down at the sword plunged through her chest and sighed. "Are you that foolish, Zenan? Get it through your head. You cannot kill me! I am dead already, separated from your world and laws, but you will join me soon enough!" Her eye sockets glimmered blood-red and her hand heated suddenly like fire on Crono's neck as she prepared the final killing spell. Then she noticed his smile. The witch hesitated, and her eyes dimmed back to darkness as indecision coursed through her. She had not felt doubt in a very long time. Something about the boy's eyes made her pause.

He clutched something inside his robe, that precious blue garment he had risked his life to save. What did he hold, hidden from her gaze?

"You're right, Witch," Crono agreed. "One cannot kill what's already dead. But I know the secret to conquering death." Crono's eyes found hers and she now trembled at what she saw in them, for she feared the unknown. What did he have in his pocket?

"You know nothing, child, and will leave no change in this world! And you will die early because you are a fool!"

Crono shrugged. "What one leaves behind does not end up engraved in stone. It stays woven into the lives of others."

The witch puzzled over his new seeming lack of fright. In fact, he appeared anxious to speak with her, and she supposed he simply went mad with terror or sought to trick her again so he could escape. Her grip would not lessen for anything, but she hadn't spoken with another person in a very long time, and this rather annoying but interesting fellow captured her interest. Her grip tightened.

"Tell me then the answer to your riddle, and I might even ease your suffering, young mortal. What can conquer death?"

"Life," he answered, ironically one of the last words the Malordra Witch heard. Suddenly Crono wrenched free the healing tonic from his robe and smashed the ivory vial into the witch's wicked face. She screamed in pain as brilliant white fire sprang to life and spread across her body. The flaming light exceeded the sun, and enveloped her in a holy burn as the witch cried out into the darkness of the forest with a wail that echoed across Guardia. In sync with that wail, she hatefully glared at Crono, and became determined to bring him down in her last moments of limbo.

But Crono fought back. Those who died before would be avenged in this moment, even Evanheart's brother. He rose to his feet and pulled free his sword. "I came from another age to stop what you have begun," he said as he lifted the blade. "The justice of this sword will echo over the centuries and you will disappear forever."

The warrior from another age had deliberately stabbed the witch to freshly coat his weapon in her deathly essence, and he smeared some of the potion's contents from his hand down the length of his sword. The white flames sprang to life as his hand crossed the blade and created a holy weapon against her. She fell back against the light.

"Stay away from me!" she screamed. The power of the tonic flared with a freed purpose as it sought to destroy all dead parts upon a being already deceased, then it burned the witch's pernicious form within its holy light until she faded. Crono charged into the witch as his sword emanated with power, and brightened the darkness of the forest in an explosion of light more powerful than the sun. Crono attacked hard and fast as he sliced off the witch's head and watched her remains descend into the black chasm from whence she crawled. Radiating from the grave encompassing the ruins of the witch's home, the fire intensified upon her body and she hatefully reached up as though to cast a final killing spell upon the red-haired fighter as he watched her vanish into ashes. Her blaring scream echoed a moment longer as she glanced through the burning white flames to note her conqueror standing above her, his windblown hair waving like a dancing fire in the last moments of her existence. Elvira's blaring hateful screams echoed a moment longer before the last ivory flame consumed her and she disappeared from the earth.

When, on a southern wind, the final screams of the witch reached Lord Evanheart and his knights, they knew Crono had found the hag's lair. They reined their horses to a halt and listened to the wails that echoed through the morning mist. The cries, distant and perplexing at first, abruptly shattered the silence. Gradually Evanheart made out screams of pain.

"So much for that boy," one knight grimly stated. "Looks like she nabbed another one. He tried his best for all of us. May God have mercy on his soul."

Another knight nodded. "It saddens me another senseless death took place right before King Guardia's castle."

"I'm not surprised," another knight announced. "No man can defeat the evil that pervades those woods. The boy acted the fool for even trying."

"No," Evanheart softly whispered, but his mighty voice echoed to each of them. "Those do not constitute cries of conquest, but wails of loss. That kid beat her! He defeated the witch! She's dead, and he survived!" The others sat quietly on their horses as they uncertainly took in the witch's final cries. "Somehow, he prevailed."

"How can you be sure, Captain?" a knight asked. "I sense no variance in her cries. I've heard them my entire life, echoing from those woods. The boy didn't have magic! How could he defeat her and live to tell the tale?"

Evanheart gazed out to the Eastern Sea as something wondrous grabbed hold of his vision, and a tear trickled down his cheek. "I think that question can answer itself," Evanheart answered. "Look west, my brothers."

The knights searched the horizon and immediately beheld the cursed bridge on the ocean shore. A pale golden light shone down from amid the borders of the sky, and pulsed a fire more powerful than dawn. Slowly, the mist that cloaked the Bridge of Fatality melted away. The golden light knifed upwards into the sky, parted the clouds and brightened the earth.

"No mere sunrise yields from the west," a knight said in wonder, for the sun rose only in the east. "What makes that distant fire?"

"It can't be," said another, gaping, unable to accept the truth of the prophecy.

"The just shall appear when evil threatens our people," Evanheart recalled slowly, "and the vision of a hero will rise when heavens part way and light of gold shines from a place the world has never known." Evanheart glanced at each of his men. "Lord Cyrus spoke those last words before he left to fight Magus. Not by mere chance this boy comes to us at the dawn of the last days in the way Cyrus described. One sword can bring hope, a stronghold when fortune dies. It has come to this, my friends. The reincarnation of Lord Cyrus has returned. That boy will save us all."

The knights watched together from atop the highlands as the mist disappeared in the rays of renewed light and the curse faded from the bridge. For a moment, the forest glowed with glittering brilliance as Elvira's spell vanished from the doorstep of Guardia Castle. The light speared the ceiling of the forest trees and the dark haze above could not stand against it. As the golden light pushed back the gloom, black storm clouds burned away and the sea brightened. For one precious moment in time, blue skies shone across Guardia.

"The curse has lifted," Evanheart whispered. "It is done." He turned to his men as his face lit with determination the knights thought lost forever. "May this truth captivate your hearts in the same way it did mine. Hope has returned to our sanctified land!" His gaze lifted. "Knights of Guardia, the hour has come! Time to restore the former glory of the Bridge of Fatality! Gather all able craftsmen to the Lazaren. Have them march to the borders of the sea! Let us connect the southern isles and the north as one! Unite our people as before the witch cursed us! Go now, my friends. The longer we wait, the smaller our window of opportunity."

Five of Evanheart's men followed his orders, and reined their horses back before bolting eastward to Truce Village to gather more men for work on the bridge. One remained at his captain's side, and enjoyed the mist fading into the sea.

The two men stared from the summit of the highlands as the ocean waves rose skyward in an explosive shimmer of blue rainfall. Evanheart knew the battle had only begun. The Dark Lord Magus would one day show his hooded face in a final showdown between humans and mystics. But the captain smiled. How easily hope should return with the appearance of a single boy whose valor may govern the fates of many. Afternoon sunlight already began to break through the ceiling of storm clouds. For the first time in years, the grass shone green under the light, and across the distance separating earth and sky, dark clouds dissipated before the oncoming sun.

The knight chuckled and turned to his captain. "I never thought a boy could defeat the witch. Ever since Lord Cyrus disappeared with Glenn Deragon, we've felt little hope." He glanced into the wind-swept forest. "The Bridge of Fatality will no longer bring death to those who cross it. The curse has lifted and evil no longer dwells in the west."

Evanheart's eyes thoughtfully gleamed. "I believe we no longer have a reason to call it the Bridge of Fatality, good sir. I find no sense in the name."

The knight paused. "You're right, Lord Evanheart. Fatality has ended." The two friends remained silent for a time as they witnessed the dark magic disappearing from the land. "That boy," the knight said. "What did he call himself?"

Lord Evanheart lost himself in the brilliance of the sunlit view as he cherished this memory he would carry for the rest of his days. "Crono," he said with a gentle smile. "Crono Zenan. And by the promise of Lord Cyrus, he will fight against Magus and become the next hero of Guardia." At peace, he watched the bridge for a long time. "Zenan," he whispered softly.

The knight glanced at his captain. "What was that, sir? Did you say something?"

Evanheart gazed at the sky. Then his eyes fell to where the golden light flared above the edge of the world. "Zenan," Lord Evanheart repeated again, and placed a firm hand on his friend's shoulder. "We shall call it the Bridge of Zenan."


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter VI—When Fates Unite

After severing the webs clinging to his father's battle robe, Crono Zenan departed the empty clearing with footsteps silent as a passing shadow. Shaken by what befell him in the woods, but encouraged by fulfillment of his promise to Evanheart, he maintained a steady course northward from the dying purple fire of Elvira's burial grounds. He knew the Malordra Witch's demise allowed people of Guardia, for once in a great while, to whisper of hope.

Shadows lengthened across Darkwood Forest, and gentle pools of oncoming night gradually swept to envelop daylight as the sun continued its own journey into the west. Crono encountered no further trouble as he trekked. The air grew colder as gentle streamers of faint light tapered down in breaks of the forest. At the bases of trees, trailers of mist hazily stirred like tiny wisps of ghostly ships that sailed through the shadows with a passing breeze. But despite the forest's appearance, Crono could see, underneath its nebulous surface and four hundred years beyond, Darkwood's beauty.

He stopped short in wonder as a sudden chill ran down his spine. What if his actions brought about its future beauty? Who else if not he would have broken the curse had he not traveled back into time? The weight of that possibility stunned Crono. His entire life had taken place in 1000 A.D., but it never occurred to him until now how he may have impacted everyone else's life before his birth by planting the first seeds of hope in the people of Guardia.

Clearwater streams softly lapped against smooth rocks and echoed through the silence. Brief sparkles of beauty captured Crono's gaze wherever he walked. The land brightened with every step, and Crono knew Guardia Castle drew closer. The woodland ceiling glittered in lush green where sunlight peeked through. The forest's evil aura truly vanished, Crono reflected, and the people of Guardia would gather flowers and harvest food here for weary travelers as they did in his time. Warm wind blew through the trees and banished the cold sealed within the forest. High atop the branches, songbirds chirped and guided Crono to Guardia Castle. The plush opulence of the soft earthen roads made the walk enjoyable as Crono's leather boots pressed quietly upon the ground and scattered the leaves in a splash of color.

Beyond the widespread trees and their interwoven branches, Kelvenforge Mountain pierced the black heavens with Guardia Castle looming in the distance. A stonework path that led up to the castle came into view.

Crono, tired and cramped from the long journey through the woods and across the highlands, stopped for a few minutes to eat and fill his aleskin at a small stream. Because of the well-protected borders of the land, he felt safe enough to enjoy a brief meal and relax. He had forgotten to bring food from Truce Village, but he knew this land as completely as his kitchen at home and he foraged for raw vegetables and edible roots. He lounged in the grass to eat and then rose to his feet, hitched up his sword, and started for the castle.

Eventually he emerged from the shady trees to behold the grand ornate palace. The stone of the great sweeping castle reached the heavens, and its vastness seemed to weigh down its earth base. Bright pathways of smooth polished stone led up to the fortress, which shone in resplendent glory despite its age; it glimmered in the faint light above the world like a great dragon of silver and crimson, as majestic as the mountain guarding its back. The towers and spires soared high into the darkening heavens and a whole new land of green hills and valleys spread away before Crono. A gathering of bluebirds fluttered from the silent forest rooftops and swooped towards the castle, then winged their way north until lost from sight in the shadow of the mountain beyond.

Crono crouched behind a boulder and then scanned the area. He made out several patrols between himself and the castle. They would be watching for anything out of the ordinary. Their battle-hardened faces glared as unfriendly and fierce as the weapons they carried as their spears and shields pointed towards the skies. Crono expected no welcome from these soldiers. If the guards caught him now, his journey would be over. Evanheart had told Crono nobody could come within twenty miles of Guardia Castle, just as the law forbade citizens from leaving any local village located in the surrounding plains. If caught intruding on the palace grounds, under the nose of the imperial public, Crono might as well sign his own death warrant.

After studying the most concealing route from the summit of the hills, Crono made his way down the rise leading from Darkwood Forest. He kept his footsteps balanced on the uneven terrain as he aimed for the first set of bushes in the valley beyond. Fierce wind whipped at his slipshod hair and cunning face as he glanced around to make sure nobody spied him. Like those above Kelvenforge, trees shimmered in myriad hues of red and green as they contrasted the dim colors of Darkwood that bordered the sweeping valley. Leaves fell to blanket the grounds and rustled beneath Crono's feet as he steadily crept onward to find Nadia. The smells of damp wood and recently trimmed grass rose up from the meadows the deeper he trekked. He made his way first to a set of wide bushes, darted to a gathering of boulders near a stream, and then bolted for two fallen trees a few paces beyond.

The youth snuck outside the terrain where the soldiers watched and followed the grass. Shadows cast by Kelvenforge aided his progress. To his benefit, the soldiers didn't appear to expect trouble and routinely made their rounds. Crono knew they believed only the armed and highly trained knights of Guardia could pass through Darkwood Forest alive. The most wicked and ill-favored forest of the age dominated the doorstep of Guardia Castle, and the guards thought it highly improbable for a commoner to pass through Darkwood's perils and seek to so willingly trespass on the forbidden palace grounds. Crono kept his presence as silent as a shadow in the night as his eyes fixed on the distant guards across the meadow. Wind blew down from the cold heights of the mountain and swept the grasslands.

The boy crouched amid the variety of large rocks and fallen trees marking the grounds and snuck among the shadows as he followed his chosen route to the Castle of Guardia. The guards, oblivious to the one thing that lurked so quietly in their midst, stared out at the mysterious forest. The fire-haired youth from another age crept without notice, unbound even by the laws of time, into the deep valley beyond. He quietly scrambled among the huge logs and dense green shrubbery he had pinpointed from the summit of the hills. After a patrol passed beyond the boulders that concealed Crono, he dashed from his hiding place to the castle wall and pressed his back against it. Crono slowly circumvented the walls and discovered the roadway leading to the castle gate remained unguarded! He glanced around a final time and rushed on to follow the stone path entrance to the gates of Guardia Castle. The immensity of the fortress, which jutted into the heavens like a blade resting in a pedestal of mountain stone, made him pause as he stared skyward.

In the valley behind him, the patrols appeared as tiny silver figures marching slowly across the green land. They had thought themselves cleverly hidden, but the sunlight on their glimmering armor revealed their location as Crono passed them by. When Crono reached the gate, he found no other way in and hoped he could at least explain his situation. Then he lifted the massive lion-head doorknockers, which clunked against the oak. Two soldiers, one with a thick moustache and shifty bird-eyes, the other slightly chubby and missing his two front teeth, each opened a separate section of the doors.

"What the?" one of the guardsmen stated. "Who are you? How did you get past Darkwood and the guards?"

"My name is Crono Ze . . ."

"Absurdity!" the guard exclaimed. "No one should be here! Why have you come?"

"Uhh, well I'm . . ."

The lanky gatekeeper turned around, faced a fellow fat guardsman and interrupted Crono again. "I thought I told you to send word to Captain Evanheart! He's supposed to patrol the northern edge of the woods! You didn't send the message? That came from the King of Guardia, soldier!"

"I did, sir, I did!" the man feebly replied. "I personally informed him this morning shortly after the queen's return. Security should have increased substantially!"

The first guard raised an eyebrow and pointed at Crono. "Then how do you explain this?"

"He's a beggar," the guard claimed. "Look at his eyes. He probably charmed Lord Evanheart with some depressing story, requesting food and earning the good captain's favor."

The skinny guard grinned. "Likely. What's up with your hair, boy? Crimson like the devil! You one of Magus' troopers?"

"Hardly!" the other replied, laughing.

"Stop that at once!" somebody snapped from behind them in the hall. The guards became very serious and quickly rotated.

"Q-Queen Leene!" they exclaimed together.

Crono couldn't see much from where he stood, but he clearly heard the voices.

"How dare you speak that way to him," scolded the Queen of Guardia. "That 'beggar' out there is a friend of mine! You will show him the same respect you would give your king!"

Crono knew the queen mistook him for someone else, as she hadn't even seen him yet from the doorway. Her voice did sound distantly familiar . . .

The guards hesitated and appeared confused that their queen had made a friend of some outlander. "But my lady, I have no memory of you ever sharing counsel with this youth." Another pause ensued and Crono detected some tension. Arguing with a queen could lead to death.

"You would dare disobey my orders?" Queen Leene asked. "Do you think so little of my certainty, soldier? Or does trust no longer exist between us?"

The guard bowed low. "C-Certainly not, my queen! My deepest and most sincere apologies to you, your majesty, and to you, uh . . ." He turned towards Crono. "Good sir. We knew not of your acquaintance with our most beloved queen."

"Forget about it," Leene replied. "And may this be a lesson for both of you. Be kind to all people, even strangers. We can't afford any more enemies, and your kindness may save your lives one day."

The guards bowed again. "We are sorry, your majesty! We would never dream to disappoint you."

"Yes, dear soldiers," she responded. "But mistakes never go without value. Do not concern yourself with personal errors, merely small blessings that make you better men, and I trust you will never act unkindly to anyone again. Now please, open the gates and let my friend in. Our guest must be cold and hungry."

The guards quickly unfastened the steel locks and opened the gates.

Crono, confused, from four hundred years in the future, could not guess what the queen would do when she finally beheld him. Clearly she mistook his voice for someone else's. But Crono couldn't turn back now. This might be his only way into the castle—and to Nadia.

Crono heard the queen dismiss the guards as their footsteps echoed through the vast hallways. When Queen Leene finally beheld Crono from the open gate, she smiled with eyes so royal blue she could make the sea bow. Silk white gloves covered her arms to the elbows and a long blue dress fell away to her feet, and her ears shone with silver jewelry. Sapphire earrings bordered in gold sparkled near her face, and complimented her vibrant sky-blue eyes. Tied with silver ribbons, her waist-length golden hair shimmered softly in the light.

Crono fell to his knees, and froze as he heard her speak his name.

"Crono," she whispered, then louder, "on your feet. You've come! I knew you would."

The confused youth didn't move as he gaped at her. "What do you know of me? Who are you?"

The queen smiled. "Even your eyes deceive you, Crono Zenan. I knew who knocked at my door the moment those guards mentioned crimson hair. But do you not recognize me?"

Crono studied her for a time, then shook his head no. "It's me, Nadia! But everyone keeps calling me Leene! I'm not the Queen of Guardia, Crono!" She glanced around. "But it's not safe for us to speak here. Unwanted ears may be listening. Follow me into the castle and I'll explain everything."

Crono followed Nadia through a high arched doorway and into the main hall of Guardia Castle. Stone walls studded by torches rose on all sides, and the rough floors faintly scraped underfoot. Suddenly a guard materialized out of the dimness and blocked Crono's progress. "Red hair . . . blue robes. You're the one I've been sent to find, young sir. The king wishes a word with you. Urgently." He glanced at the Queen of Guardia. "I apologize, your majesty. You must await his arrival a little longer."

Crono froze under the weight of the guard's eyes. "King Guardia himself? He wants to talk to me? What does he want?"

The guard bowed. "I know little myself, sir. I apologize for delaying your business, but this will take only a moment. The king seeks audience with you in the Great Hall. If you would be so kind as to follow me, his lordship will be most obliged by your presence."

Queen Leene turned to Crono. "Sir, when you are through with your meeting with the king, I will meet you in my room."

Crono paused, forced a smile, and wondered if the king set a trap for him. But the guard's welcoming tone decided against that. He couldn't refuse in any case. "Sure, I'd be honored." The queen nodded then and disappeared through one of the side doors in the hall.

Vibrant purple carpet bordered in gold covered the cold gray floors in large colorful squares and decorated the wide entrances to chambers throughout the castle. The flags of the lion and arches, outlined by the soft crimson glow of fire that billowed in the halls and reflected off the polished floors, hung down in the faint hue of the torchlight. Soldiers and household maidens roamed the halls at every turn. Each had a mission to perform or a wounded man to tend. From the gleaming walls hung swords and shields, reminders of the strength and courage of honored soldiers. The mere atmosphere of the Castle inspired Crono's dream to become a knight. Oak doorways lined the halls, most with a guard posted on either side. Some thresholds showed knights made of stone, and Crono couldn't determine the real from the false.

The scent of sizzling seasoned meat wafted through the air as Crono glimpsed into an open door and beheld a grand kitchen where chefs cooked. Throughout the castle, stairwells disappeared upward into darkness, and overhead balconies lined with silver rails rose so high Crono's head spun. Fine plants sprouted from porcelain vases, and the gentle leaves gleamed green next to wooden weapon racks of battleaxes and claymores.

The guard led Crono down the halls as their shadows cast on the torch-lit stone like wraiths seeking to escape the light. The walls of the ancient stone castle, unworn by time, gleamed in the torchlight. Stonewall knights standing at intervals pointed lances towards the crimson-gold flags of the lion.

"So what brings you here to the castle, stranger?" the guardsman asked.

Crono knew he would have to be careful what he told the guard. "I heard from Captain Evanheart that Nadi . . . that Queen Leene sought counsel with me."

The guard nodded as they turned a corner. "Ah, yes, Lord Evanheart, the finest man you'll meet in this kingdom. He's one of the few men of this country for whom I would walk in the shadow of death. Even face death when the need arises."

Crono nodded in agreement. "A good man. When I first met him, I knew I wanted to be that kind of knight someday."

Silence ensued, save the crackling of the blood-red torchlight and their footsteps echoing through the lonely darkness of the castle.

"I admire you, young sir," the guard announced unexpectedly. "Unlike many here, I trust you."

Crono curiously studied him. "We've only just met."

The guard's stone gaze turned to him. "I envy those whom the queen calls friend. Blessed by the divine, she chooses those no less enlightened for her society. In that way Lord Cyrus came to us. The queen saw something in him. You may very well walk the same path."

The two men said nothing after that.

Crono and the guard arrived at two grand ornate doors left open to admit summoned guests. The guard led Crono no further, but bowed low and swept up his hand to direct his charge. "King Guardia awaits you, my friend. I wish you the best."

Crono passed over the threshold as he glanced back at his escort. "Thank you again, sir. Take care of yourself." The guard saluted him, then started back down the halls the way they had come.

Crono breathed deeply to himself, then entered the room and passed unmoving knights at the doorway. A carpet of gold and red lay sprawled beneath Crono's feet and stretched into the distance like a road of jewels adorned by gold seams of majestic color. The throne room dominated the castle like a horizon spreading from vast canyons. Knights stood all around with eyes harder and colder than the stone fortress they surveilled. Upon the walls hung lavish tapestries and crafted ornaments, rich in texture. Crono felt the eyes of the knights pierce his back and warn him to be mindful of the king. Crono thought his heart might fail as he drew closer to the most powerful man, save perhaps Magus, in Guardia.

Two thrones occupied a broad carpeted platform high above the main floor. Fear slinked down Crono's back and froze his thoughts. He found it somewhat difficult to breathe but stood as straight as he could, kept his eyes forward and determined, and matted down his slapdash hair and loose tunic collar. He knelt down, lowerered his head in respect, and did not dare to make eye contact with the king.

"Sire," Crono greeted and realized all at once he had never appeared in the presence of a king before. He glanced up slightly. Clad in silver-blue robes, the king stood tall and proud. His face appeared scarred and worn by past battles, but exuded reassurance and welcome to those who looked on him. Crono felt his tension melt away. Upon the king's shoulders sat a long purple cape, rich and thick, and above it dark hair shot through with streaks of gray. A beautiful gold crown sat on his head, and his blue eyes reflected wisdom and power. His strong hands held a large scepter made of solid gold. The king set aside his jeweled cane and reached out his hands as his voice deeply rang.

"Arise, Sir Zenan. I must extend my deepest gratitude for the safety of my beloved Leene. I felt it befitting to call you here this day."

Crono rose to his feet, and his eyes mirrored confusion. "But my lord, Captain Evanheart and his knights rescued the queen out of harm's way. I've done nothing worth honor."

The king nodded in understanding. "Indeed, Evanheart fulfilled that task. But word reached my ears that you took upon yourself the quest to find her, even questioned the likes of my rogue emissary, Toma Draconis, in one of the taverns in town. I never instructed you to find my wife. You did so out of the kindness of your heart and bravery that quickly fades out of men. You remind me young people still exist who remain incorrupt and loyal to the well-being of this land. I wanted to extend my thanks and tell you your actions have not gone unnoticed. Blessed be your life, Sir Zenan."

Crono's eyes widened and he couldn't help gaping. He had searched only for Nadia in the tavern. "I am uhh . . . humbled, your majesty."

The king's hands fell behind his back. "Although, I must say Leene has not been herself as of late."

Crono glanced around. "I haven't noticed anything different about her. I mean Mag . . . er, the evil one kidnapped her."

The king looked surprised. "Oh, dear me, it is not that at all, good sir. I know the troubles she has borne since the incident of her kidnapping, a most terrible night. But she lost her sapphire pin, an heirloom more precious to her than the gold of a hundred rich kings!"

Crono said nothing, and sensed the king may have discovered Nadia's unwilling disguise. He suddenly felt his hopes fade of ever leaving this terrible place and returning to the mountain where he and Nadia first landed, especially now that everyone believed Nadia to be Queen of Guardia. "But forgive me, sir, you must be weary," the king stated. "My wife does wish to see you, and if you follow the stairs to my left, you will find her room. And please heed no distrust of the soldiers and maidens in the halls above. Mind you, we have been rather wary of outsiders as of late." He paused suddenly on reflection. "Pardon my intrusion, but where did you meet Leene? I have no memory of your face."

Crono hesitated. "Well . . . I met her through Toma. May I go, sire?"

The king slowly nodded. "You may, young sir. We shall talk later. Farewell."

"Thank you." Crono turned and swiftly departed the throne room, as he suspected the king already grew distrustful of him. On his way to Nadia's room, his heart lurched when he turned a corner to find Nadia waiting for him near the darkness of the stairwell. She put a finger to her lips, then beckoned up the stairs towards the distant chambers beyond. The walk felt like an endless river of stone as they ascended the stairwell. Cold eyes followed Crono everywhere he walked. Soldiers slowly marched the silent halls. Unwanted eyes fixed always on the red-haired stranger who followed so closely behind their recently rescued queen. Distrust pervaded the air. Everyone seemed at the edge of swift reaction, always half a second away from drawing a weapon. Crono constantly glanced over his shoulder to ensure no one followed to stick a knife in his back!

When they reached the upper halls, an overly cautious guard approached Crono and stopped him. "Whoa, son. You're going to have to let me hold that sword. Weapons cannot be carried in the company of our queen." He roughly grabbed Crono by the shoulder. Instinctively, Crono shoved him back, and the suspicious knight wrenched free his own weapon.

Nadia instantly stepped between them and raised her elegant hand. "Calm yourself, men. Be assured and sheath your weapon, good soldier. This man intends no harm to any of us. I trust my life in his hands as much as yours. He may keep his sword."

The hesitant guard glared at Crono, then simply bowed and returned to his station.

Crono wanted to ask why Nadia posed as the Queen of Guardia, but she placed another finger on her lips and beckoned Crono down the hall. "We're almost there," she whispered. "Stay close."

The royal passageways glowed in the fire of thick torches attached to the walls by iron brackets, and bright flames glimmered on the shields and swords hanging above the arches. When they turned into a hall lined with royal carpet, Crono knew they neared Queen Leene's chambers.

But where was the real queen? Crono's worry grew with every step. He tried to convince himself nothing mattered but freeing Nadia from this place. When he first discovered he had landed in the Middle Ages, he promised to keep interaction with others to a minimum. But it grew increasingly more difficult to keep that promise. The tense atmosphere wrapped Crono like chains, as if some hidden evil bound every human heart.

A time of war, Crono reminded himself, and recalled the grim faces around him. Having clashed with death itself just to reach this castle, he empathized with their pain. At least, in dispatching the witch, he had helped to relieve some of their suffering, and the forests could be traveled through again. But at what cost? What did any of it matter?

Sure, he knew he fulfilled missions for the greater good, but at the same time he could indirectly shatter lives and reverse set outcomes before his arrival. The course of history changed even now as he took these steps, with every choice he made, every creature he killed, every person with whom he spoke, every ground upon which he walked. He interfered with the call of destiny and retold others' stories. If not careful, he might undo someone else's, or even his own, existence.

After passing through the door to Nadia's room, Crono noticed a few young women dusting and tidying up.

"Please leave us," Nadia told them, then gestured to Crono. Crono noted the reluctance in the girls' eyes, but with a curtsey the maidens departed the chamber and closed the door.

"Crono," Nadia began, then turned and embraced him as though she would never let go. "I'm so relieved you're here." She released him and turned to glance out the window. Her voice sounded distant as she spoke as her eyes fixed on the sprawling land below. "We barely know each other, but somehow I knew you'd come for me." She turned and smiled at him. "You never let me down, do you?"

Crono sighed in relief. "Nadia, if you're not the queen, then the knights discovered you in the mountains? What happened after you came through that portal?"

Nadia's eyes looked haunted by the memory of the swirling blue light. "Yes, they found me. After I ended up in the canyons following the night of Luca's unveiling, a man named Evanheart discovered me. He told me I must come to the castle and left me no choice. I thought my family hired him to look for me."

Concern reflected in her eyes as she shook her head. "But this is not Guardia, Crono. I know it isn't. Where are we? What is this place?"

"Wait a minute, Nadia," Crono replied. "I need to know something first. If these people think you're their queen, where is the real one?"

"I don't even know who she is," Nadia admitted. "They mistook me for her. Maybe I just look like her."

Crono helplessly shook his head. "Nadia, we've got to get out of here." Then he remembered something and patted his tunic pocket. "Oh, by the way, I have something with me." He pulled out the blue pendant and handed it to her.

She gazed at it for a few seconds before slipping it around her neck. "Thank you." She leaned in to kiss his cheek.

"Luca thinks we need it to get back to our time. But I have no idea how to use it to escape. Only Luca knows."

Nadia looked stunned. "Our time? Crono, what do you mean 'our time'? How can we possibly have traveled to another time? Luca invented a time machine? That portal . . ."

"I know," Crono cut her short. "Let's just try to get out of here first. We can talk about this later. Right now, we have to concern ourselves with returning as closely as we can to the forest clearing where we first appeared. If we're lucky, Luca might wait for us there."

"But they consider me their queen, Crono," Nadia pointed out. "You won't be able to free me by yourself. We have to be smart about this. If there's a passageway we can take out of the castle, we might . . ." Suddenly she froze. The entire room darkened and the air turned cold as ice.

Crono, sensing the presence of something else in the room, instantly pulled free his sword. "Nadia, get away from the window." He clutched her arm and pulled her closer to the middle of the floor. His gaze then targeted the window, which he believed a creature might burst through at any moment. Possibly a servant of Magus sought to reclaim the lost Queen of Guardia. Crono caught sight of a strange fragment of eerie green light materializing out of the room's darkness and zeroing in not on the room or anything in the castle. Instead it came from Nadia. Her body slowly shimmered in faint green fire that slithered along the curves and edges of her form. Her eyes drained of their blue and turned white like the hollow eyes of death.

"What's happening to me? I can't see!" she screamed and clutched at anything to catch herself, but her hand slid through the bedpost as if she were a ghost. In her confusion she passed through material objects without making a sound. Cold covered every inch of Crono's skin and invaded his heart. Then Nadia violently shuddered and her face seemed to age rapidly and lose color and depth. Her eyes became soulless and empty.

"Crono . . . I can't . . ." Her voice trembled like an old woman's and she appeared unable to take in breath. Tears filled Nadia's blinded eyes as the pale green light consumed her. Crono watched as Nadia levitated as though pulled by the strings of an unseen puppeteer. Instinct ruled Crono's reason as he rushed forward and gave no thought to the danger. He would not lose her again. His hand reached out, but he could not touch her or feel her warmth. He passed through her like air and his arms enveloped nothing as her body faded. The darkness and pale green light swallowed her, and she vanished from the room. Crono stood petrified as stone for a moment before glancing around. He approached the chamber walls to run his fingers along the crevices, then checked under the bed, and gazed out the castle window. But nothing revealed itself. Nadia simply disappeared. Only her pendant remained. Slowly Crono knelt down to lift and cradle it as though it might return his friend.

Quietly he opened the doors of the queen's room, stepped out and cautiously glanced around to ensure no one heard the commotion. He discovered no one in the halls outside, but that offered him no relief. He knew he must escape the castle fast. If the guards walked in and discovered their queen missing they would kill Crono. They would hunt him to the end of the world if he ran. But how could he explain what happened?

"What is this?" Crono asked as he walked down the hall leading from the queen's room, and searched the darkness. "Some kind of nightmare?" Unable to walk any further, he stopped and leaned against the wall.

At any moment, the alarm would sound. Guards would rush in and he knew he could not stand against them. But he felt resigned to this. Part of Crono's heart died when Nadia disappeared from his world again. The sadness stabbed through him like a sword. All the guilt for failing, the futility of the strife endured to reach this place, and the sense he would never see home again struck him as profoundly as the day his father died. He tried holding back the tears, but the sorrow raged like a war in his heart. It tore from him every last ounce of strength he kept within. Nothing mattered anymore. He had no one and had lost everything in so short a time—his friends, family, the life he knew before he stepped into the Telepod and disappeared into time. And now, despite everything he did for Nadia, he would die. Tears streamed down his face, but he lifted his head when he heard the voice.

"Tears do not become the warrior. So much sorrow in this land, so much pain in all I observe. Already, Crono, the sadness affects your bright spirit."

Crono pushed away from the wall of the castle and searched the dark hallway, but he saw no one. "Who are you?" He shook his head as if to clear it. "Where are you?"

"I've traveled a long way to find you," the voice explained. "Along dark roads and through cold nights, but do you know what I did?"

"What?" A sudden light flickered from above the archway and the mysterious speaker jumped down to land on the floor. He held a lit match as fiery as his grin. "Simple . . . I made a fire."

"Luca!" Crono yelled in disbelief. "You're alive!"

"And I'm surprised you're alive. Sorry for the delay, punkhead." Luca stepped closer and shook out the match. "It appears common courtesy and ogres don't mix well in this time period. They wanted me to surrender my weapon, oh, and believe me, I did. Bullets first." A wolfish smile crossed his face as he reloaded his gun. "Tough land out there. But I'm here, just like I promised."

Crono's happiness overcame him so powerfully he could not answer. He fiercely wrapped his best friend in a bear hug, then stepped back in perplexity. "You're real, Luca? You're not going to disappear, are you? I'm not dreaming?"

Luca chuckled. "I hope your delirium disappears, because I'm certainly not going to."

Crono laughed. "It's good to see you again, Luca. But how did you get here? You don't have Nadia's pendant. For that matter, how did you get into the castle?"

Luca grinned. "You don't think I invented the jetpack without reason, did you? In a land esteemed for its ability to guard, the Guardia officials always fail to shut their windows. But enough about politics. Did you find Nadia?"

"I did," Crono replied. "For a while, anyway. I'm not sure if you'll believe me."

Luca gestured. "Look where we stand, Crono. Trust me, I'll believe whatever you say. What happened to her?"

"She disappeared. Just . . . vanished into nowhere."

Luca studied him. "What did you see? How did it happen?"

"An eerie green light appeared and she went blind suddenly and started falling through things in the room. I thought at first you had something to do with it, maybe discovered a way to beam her back through the portal. But she just vanished inside the chamber back there right before you arrived." Crono pointed down the hall.

Luca adjusted his glasses, and quietly observed the knight statues. "Factoring in all possible variables will render a solution," Luca whispered to himself, then looked back at his friend. "I knew that girl looked familiar. The whole ordeal makes sense now."

Crono just stared. "What are you talking about? How?"

"You must have discovered by now we're in Guardia Kingdom four hundred years in the past, right?" Crono nodded yes. "Nadia's disappearance resulted from our coming. We ultimately affect our own land in 1000 A.D." He gazed into the torchlight. "Somehow, her arrival here altered her existence. She disappeared because an event in this age prevents her from being born."

Crono stared in confusion and disbelief. "But what happened?"

"The answer to all mysteries lies in our knowledge of history," Luca continued. "Let me give you a brief lesson, Crono. Four hundred years ago, the followers of Magus kidnapped Queen Leene. A few days later, a man named Toma Draconis rescued her." He paused as if discovering a revelation all over again. "Nadia looks so much like Queen Leene that the king and his knights must have called off the search when she appeared in the mountains two days ago. The theme of this problem still exists, because the real queen is still missing, altering Truce's history."

Crono uncertainly reflected. "But that shouldn't affect Nadia's birth, only the bloodline of the royal family. How would this undo her birth?"

Luca smiled faintly. "You still don't know who she is, do you?"

Crono didn't blink. "Who?"

Luca's voice pierced like a sharp edge. "Queen Leene is Nadia's ancestor. Nadia is the Princess of Guardia."


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter VII—The Unwritten Paradox

Deep in the halls of Guardia Castle, hidden in a recess near one of the statues, Crono Zenan took a long time to react as Luca's words pierced his soul in the silence. The magnitude of the revelation left him speechless. All this time, he wandered the land without realizing his actions changed events for the worse. He knew nothing of time travel and even less about its laws and the harm it brought to those who meddled with it. The realization cut him so sharply he thought he'd never speak again. That's why Nadia vanished, he realized as the grim memory flooded back.

"Science is a powerful force," Luca softly explained. "It can take life and invoke time's fury. We crossed the line and walked into the forbidden. Nadia is neither dead nor alive. I believe her soul waits in a black lacuna."

Crono glanced up at him. "What do you mean? Like . . . she's in purgatory?"

"Some believe when you die, your soul passes into the next life," Luca told him, "but in this situation I don't think we're dealing with that concept. Humans call existence the chain of evolution for this reason. You break one link, and destinies shatter. It's like Nadia never had a soul to begin with, because we completely dismantled the events leading up to her existence. She's not dead or alive, just a missing piece of time's river, another droplet tumbling out of the eternal flow. We have changed a story of the past, so the future won't be the same."

Crono leaned against the wall and lowered his eyes to the floor. "This is too much, Luca. I wish we never came here. I just want to wake up from this nightmare."

Luca touched his friend's shoulder. "This isn't your fault, Crono."

"I tried to save her," Crono mumbled. "But I failed."

"Not necessarily," Luca pointed out. "Mathematics includes two core elements called transitive properties. Same rules apply here, for Nadia and the ancestry of the royal family."

Crono sighed. "I have no idea what you're talking about. Math? Luca, they've called off the search and fixed their attention on the upcoming war! It's going to happen sometime soon at Zenan Bridge, and we're going to get caught up in it! The people of Guardia won't concern themselves with a search they believe ended! Who will save the queen? We've already broken that destiny, and we know that because Nadia's gone! She'd be here right now if time foresaw our success at saving her ourselves!"

Luca squarely faced Crono. "It foresaw the fate of Leene's death only because we're still standing here talking about it. We're dealing with time, Crono, a course never fixed for anyone. Nadia's fatal destiny nears with each minute that passes before the queen dies in the past. If we seek to save Nadia, we have to find Queen Leene. As I mentioned before, a man named Toma Draconis rescued Queen Leene from the Dark Lord's henchmen. But his journey follows another road now that everyone thinks the queen has returned. Only you and I know otherwise. If my theory pans out, if we save the queen, time will be restored back to its original state, to before we ever came here. Timelines will simply reconnect, and so long as we maintain minimal interface with people, then different details will be written in history. But Nadia will return to us."

Crono's eyes flared with determination. "Then we better get moving. We still have time to return the queen to the castle! Who knows when she'll be killed?"

"That concerns me, too," Luca grimly admitted as he headed down the dark halls, and left Crono to follow in dismay.

Crono fell in step with his friend as they walked along the shadows. They avoided guards and denizens of the castle altogether, and kept their words softer than the crackling firelight. "Luca, what did you mean by your concern?"

Luca's eyes stayed fixed on an imaginary point up ahead and he did not immediately respond. Crono smiled weakly. "I guess you weren't exaggerating when you called the Telepod the Discovery of a Lifetime. You probably should have called it the Destruction of a Lifetime."

Luca sighed. "My knowledge of history nettles my concern. Incomputable backfires create what I call a paradox, Crono, meaning we've involuntarily begun a chain reaction that disrupts the flow of events. If we don't repair the world's chronology, we may end up destroying our own lives."

Crono looked puzzled. "But you said only a different story will be written in history. How does that involve our lives?"

Luca and Crono pressed their backs against the wall of a shadowed corridor as two knights passed. "Observe from this perspective then," Luca whispered, then cautiously emerged from the hallway when the knights disappeared, Crono a step behind. "If Queen Leene dies in this age, her ancestors will never exist, and that means the Bell of Queen Leene will never be built. Had the Bell of Queen Leene never been constructed, there's a possibility my father or I would not have risen so early every morning and spent so much time constructing the Telepod. And thus, without ever building the Telepod which sent us back in time to change the bell's existence, we therefore created a chain of events impossible in the space-time continuum."

Crono thought about it for a long time, but shrugged. "I don't know what that means, but it doesn't sound good."

Luca sighed again. "In the simplest terms, we have to save the queen. The severed lines of history must be woven together again." Luca paused as he reflected. "Several paradoxes slowly come into being by our interference, Crono. I believe only our own awareness of what's at stake and our desire to protect it will hold back the destruction of the space-time continuum. Hidden laws keep the fabric of time intact, just as the world sustains life, and we must do everything we can to defend these laws."

Crono hesitated. "Several paradoxes? Impossible events, you mean?"

"Think about it," Luca stated. "History changed because of the sole purpose behind your coming here to save Nadia. If she doesn't exist in the future, then you would never have a reason to travel here, and that's just one of the many varying paradoxes that could surface. The others I can't foresee. But I know we've placed the planet at risk, and I predict more lives at stake than just Nadia's."

Crono cautiously glanced around a corner at an intersection of the halls, then sighed with relief to find nobody there and the exit of Guardia Castle close by. He gazed at his friend as they quietly turned that corner. "Do you fear humans could lose the war if Leene dies? If Magus kills the queen, the soldiers might lose hope, and our entire country could be governed by mystics in the future."

Luca's eyes thoughtfully gleamed behind his glasses. "That too becomes another varying possibility, but I believe the situation entails even more than just human lives. I fear the world and the creation of life itself could wither with the destruction of laws holding them in place. When law and order die, chaos lives."

Then, when the main halls leading out of Guardia Castle came into view, from behind them they heard a roar from the guards. "By God, she's gone! The Queen of Guardia has disappeared! Soldiers, tell the king at once! Everyone, search the castle! Find Zenan and kill him on sight!"

Luca Devir picked up his pace. "Speaking of lives, now might be a good time to save our own. Let's move!" Soldiers dashed down the castle halls with swords already drawn. "Run!" Luca and Crono burst into full stride, and strained to cross the castle gates before the soldiers blocked their passage. Chaos filled Guardia Castle. In the halls above them, the clamoring of iron footsteps thundered. The stone fortress suddenly became a deadly trap. As they ran, with guards gaining on them from behind, Crono pulled a torch off the wall, set one of the plants on fire, and rolled its huge vase down the hall. The alarmed guards dove to the side as the heated projectile barreled past them and caught one of the carpets on fire.

Instantly Crono grabbed Luca and pulled him into one of the rooms off that hall. In that room they found a small group of people seated at a large round table.

"Hurry and find the intruders, you fools!" Luca roared and blatantly confused the already cowering crowd. "Don't just sit there! Go!" This bought Crono and Luca enough time to bolt across the room to a door leading into an adjacent hall. They fled as quickly as they could past portals and stone knights. They suddenly halted as one of the doors shot open and angry soldiers flooded through and menacingly lifted their swords! Luca reacted at once. A large flag of Guardia hung above the threshold and he pulled free his gun and shot out the fastening securing it to the wall. It descended over the charging knights, hampered their sight and entangled them beneath the heavy fabric.

Crono and Luca rushed past them. Ahead they could see the gates already barred by soldiers. Luca waved to Crono to take a separate route, but Crono shouted they had no time! Instead he knocked the two guardsmen from their feet and explosively crashed into the castle doors with full force! With a loud crack, the lock burst free.

Stunned, Luca shook his head in disbelief, helped his brawny friend push open the massive doors and then fled with him into dusk's hazy light.

"You!" the gatekeepers yelled as they caught sight of Crono. "Come back here, you bastards!" But the two friends from another age fled the castle. Determined to renew history and, ironically, save the people who wanted them dead, they ran toward the safety of Darkwood Forest. Knights immediately pursued them. Howls of rage filled the valley, and iron lances aimed at the intruders' hearts.

"Soldiers, stop them at once!" one knight commanded. The soldiers atop the ramparts tossed iron spears and fired arrows from high above the castle defenses. These weapons rained down on them, but Crono instantly pulled free his sword, cast the diving lances away, and intercepted all the spears aimed at Luca's back. But five fully-armed soldiers caught up to them as Crono slowed to avert the weapons. Fortunately, the shots lessened as Guardia's own men came within arm's length of the two boys. The soldiers tightly gripped their swords and slowly circled Crono to make a swift end of him.

"Run, Crono!" Luca shouted from ahead and called out in desperation. "Hurry! You can't fight them!" But he was wrong. The knights charged Crono, and Crono countered, evaded, and parried every assault against him. The harmony of his lightning-fast attacks quieted Luca as he waited and watched. The song of blade upon metal intruded upon Guardia's silence, death's wicked hand repelled by the strikes of Crono's sword. He felt he could fight on forever as he kept the guards at bay more by the force of his love for Nadia than by the strength of his arm. The five guards fell back as they realized not a single mark of their own practiced swings could touch Crono. Crono cast the blades aside so fiercely they impaled a tree, and he waited as the guards dropped to their knees in defeat. Then he held his sword up to their captain's neck.

"You're not my enemies," he told them quietly. "And your queen will be returned to the castle. Tell that to your king and to any who questions our motives." Then he sheathed his sword and ran to catch up to Luca. The guards slowly stood up as they watched the strange servants of the Dark Lord flee into Darkwood Forest.

"Shouldn't we go after them?" one asked.

Another shook his head no. "Not a good idea. They're dead in there anyways. Nobody survives long in those woods."

"The boy made it through once," the gatekeeper pointed out. "But he also spared our lives. Why would a servant of the Dark Lord do that?"

"Do not gaze too deeply into the corrupted minds of his emissaries," one quickly cut in. "Even he who should not be named spared life before. I do not like to speak of it. Let us return to the castle."

"Serves them right," a soldier stated. "Unmerciful death waits in those woods for anyone who passes through alone. And at the hands of the Malordra Witch, no greater agony exists!"

Crono Zenan and Luca Devir sprinted deep into the woods and escaped the danger of the castle. Tapers of dying gold-red light streamed down through breaks in the distant trees to lighten the woods. They stopped to catch their breath in a small clearing screened by dense shrubbery, and rested a few minutes near a tiny stream. Luca stayed in the shadows. His vigilant blue eyes searched the dark as if somehow the great silver forms of the knights would rise up at any moment and take their lives. Both Crono and Luca understood the severity of their situation and accepted the burden of becoming heroes for the day, or rather the centuries. They knew the knights of Guardia would hunt them like beasts and follow them to the ends of the earth.

Luca uncomfortably shifted as he stood next to Crono and glanced around the forest a final time. Darkwood Forest remained still and hushed amid the gloom as the black cryptic trees painfully bent against the fading crimson light of the horizon. The sun slowly sank below the rim of Kelvenforge as nightfall enshrouded the land, and a red hue mantled the dim woods in nebulous light. Crono sat upon a rock, and draped his azure robes around his stout frame as he drank from his aleskin. The unnerving quiet further amplified their fear of the situation as pools of shadows seemed to drift and gather like water to consume the twilight.

Luca sighed. "Out of the frying pan and into the fire. I hope you realize we're no safer than before. You pointed your sword at a knight! I told you to run, not fight! But that's your problem, isn't it? You don't know when to hide! Virtually half the population considers you and me the kidnappers of the queen, and it doesn't help matters when you bear arms against imperial guards!"

Crono shrugged and appeared perfectly content with their situation. "Being friends with you resembles hanging out with dynamite, Luca. I never know when you're going to explode."

Luca didn't listen as he ranted and paced around the small clearing. "By now there's got to be at least a hundred knights seeking us out! Not to mention the demons and mystics of the age that dwell in these very woods! You know, you might consider everything settled, that we can just walk up and save the day, but we don't know this Guardia! You obviously can't see the greater picture here, Crono. Think about your choices before you start fighting!" he scolded and seemed oblivious to Crono saving his life.

But Crono simply laughed softly as though dealing with a cranky child and drank the last of his water before refilling his aleskin at the stream. "Scared, Luca? You have nothing to worry about. The king wouldn't send his soldiers in here after us. They've bigger problems without having to concern themselves with us."

Luca skeptically raised an eyebrow. "What led you to assume that? If they believe we're the kidnappers, they're already making preparations! They'll be all over the forest like a swarm. We need to get out of here right now!"

Crono thoughtfully glanced into the trees, where the sound of trickling water softly echoed. "I wouldn't worry about it too much. They say a ghost called the Malordra Witch dwells in these woods. The soldiers who witnessed our escape will report back to the king and say we fled into Darkwood. It's safe for us to assume they believe us dead coming here. Everyone knows the witch will kill anyone who crosses the woods and I'd expect the king to not unnecessarily risk men searching a death trap." Crono withdrew his sword, and grinned sharper than his blade. "Seeing as you're a complete pansy who can't defend himself in the wild, I'll protect you while we pass through here." He patted Luca on the shoulder. "You're in capable hands."

Luca shook his head in pity. "I'd recommend seeking help when we return home, Crono. We need to break you away from that fantasy world of yours if you think I can't defend myself in the wilds. On the contrary, I'll be protecting you. Behold!" Suddenly he removed two guns from the holsters on his belt, and twirled them on his fingers with a wink. "In the words of street fighters, if anyone messes with us, I'll bust a cap!"

Crono gaped. "Where did you get guns? They're illegal in our time. Only soldiers have the right to carry firearms."

Luca's eyes knowingly sparkled. "They belonged to Pops, but he never uses them anymore. Former veterans still have the right to bear arms."

Crono sighed. "I'd stick with a sword if I were you. The people of the Middle Ages don't even recognize a gun, Luca. You'll make too much noise and the knights will find us for sure!"

Luca grinned. "That's why I have the silencer function. Guns make the best weapons, and if we're going to save the queen quickly, then these babies will get the job done." He patted the guns on his holster. "Swords don't even compare."

"That's a matter of opinion," Crono mumbled.

Luca adjusted his pack. "We'll see."

Crono tightly gripped his sword and narrowed his eyes. "I'll be counting the kills, Luca. You stick to your weapons and I'll stick to mine."

They made their way south from the forest clearing to reach the highlands. Nothing more guided them but the need to put as much distance as they could between themselves and the castle. They noticed no orcs or mystics in the woods the first night, and aside from a few sinister echoes from the darkness, they encountered nothing. Nightfall brought a peace to the forest and a new silence to Guardia that draped the edge of the world in a gentle black curtain and swept the color from heaven. Mist gradually slipped from the mountain as the western light slowly melted and enshrouded hunter and hunted alike. Silence deepened and vision blurred as the night beckoned from outside the forest gloom, where waves of cool dark lengthened eastward to consume the day's failing light. Voices and tiny night sounds reached out from the dark and pursued the two with each step. In every pool of shadow, Crono envisioned Nadia and the dark fate that took her away.

"You mentioned something earlier about a ghost dwelling in the woods," Luca pointed out, almost in hesitation. "Any truth to that?" He glared at Crono's grin. "I'm not saying I'm scared! I just think it wise suggesting a little advice on the matter. I'm not too thrilled about crossing a ghost. At least mystics can be shot in the face."

Crono chuckled. "No, the witch won't show herself, and we can't risk open ground," he stated. He remained unready to reveal the terrifying story still lingering in his mind. "She's resting now." Luca did not respond, but seemed to trust his friend, who had lived in this time longer and held a keener knowledge of the place. "Which reminds me," Crono asked, "where should we start looking for Leene?"

Luca helplessly shrugged. "Not a clue. I suggest asking Toma Draconis. Perhaps he could enlighten us on the clues surrounding the mystery of the queen. It's safe to assume he's somewhere in Truce Village. He's our best chance since he originally rescued Queen Guardia in the first place."

Luca stopped in his tracks. "Well, that is, if no one's put up wanted posters for us around the village. There's a high possibility Toma might betray us and turn us over to the king for profit."

Luca's mention of the name struck a chord in Crono's memory. Crono froze as he recalled a meeting in the tavern earlier that morning. The memory appeared so clearly in his mind that his blood burned. "Wait. I met a man named Toma in the village just before I came to the castle to find Nadia. He did mention something about how he investigated the disappearance of Queen Leene. He never said his last name, but I'm sure he was that Toma. But what did he say?" Crono trailed off. He glanced at Luca, and his eyes suddenly fell to the gleaming silver cross on his friend's neck. "The cathedral! On the western shore, that's where they're holding Leene! I don't know its exact location, but I know it sits somewhere in a valley west of us. Toma spoke of it briefly. It's called Manoria Cathedral. She has to be there!"

Luca thoughtfully nodded and reached into his backpack, from which he removed a map of the Land of Guardia and a history book.

Crono frowned and his excitement suddenly turned to anger. "You brought a history book? What's wrong with you?"

The young scientist flipped the book's pages but Crono snatched it and shoved it in Luca's face, then placed his finger on the cover. "Do you realize how great a weapon this book would prove in the hands of Magus? In anyone's hands, this could destroy Guardia's history! It's bad enough you brought guns to this time, but a history book, Luca? Didn't you consider how many people could die and what you can ruin? Why did you bring this here!?" Crono's fierce glare could have melted steel.

Luca slowly removed the book from his enraged friend and sighed. "Well, if you actually studied history, you'd know the Dark Lord can't read English. And if you calm down and take a closer look," he pointed to the text written on the first page, "you'd notice the history book isn't even written in English, but in Guardian, a language not devised until the year 763 A.D. A language nobody can read, you dolt!" He smacked the book over Crono's head as if completely unaware that one of his friend's punches could cripple him for life. "The language of this book doesn't even exist yet. You and I know I've always been the man with the plan. And I say this with no provocative implication whatsoever. Don't be so quick to question my intentions and throw lack of reason in my face. I've got this figured out, so just cool it."

Crono hesitated. "But why did you bring it? What purpose does it serve if only you can read it?"

Luca sighed with disgust and used his hands for emphasis. "Being bilingual has its advantages, Crono Zenan. I'm using the book both for its map layout, to prevent getting lost, and to chart our course. Depending on how we change history, or rather restore it, the text in the book will change according to our actions in this time. If you could read this old . . .," he paused on sudden reflection, "well, technically future language, you'd see here it entails no mentioning of any queens in the years 600 A.D. to 1000 A.D. Once we find Leene, I will verify our status and make sure it changes back into the history we knew before we came to this era. Then we'll return home with Nadia to our time and never speak of this again." He shut the book. "Now let's get to that cathedral and save this land. We've settled this matter."

Crono followed his brilliant friend with newfound admiration. The two completely different yet always close companions traveled west toward the cathedral, and followed the winding murky road littered with loose rock and dead leaves as it disappeared into the dismal mist beyond. Luca carried the map in the confidence that it might reveal the location of the church. His shady hair dampened to his pale face, and vapor in the sodden forest had fogged his glasses.

They rarely spoke but remained on constant guard, wary for the slightest movement as their eyes darted into the dim trees, and took in the chilling howl of wolves echoing across Darkwood. Cold wind blew through the misty wilderness and eerily shook the dripping leaves of coiling trees.

Luca suggested they not follow the road since it facilitated the pursuit of the soldiers, and his warning saved their lives. For just as they took cover a patrol of fully-armed soldiers passed on the roadway. The heavily-numbered squadron loudly called for the death of a man called Zenan. All rode on horseback, and the booming echo of hooves and angry voices clattered through the silent woods as the unit hunted for two boys who lay no more than a few feet away. Crono and Luca remained flat amid the grass and debris of the woodland bushes. The wind of the rushing horsemen brushed at their long hair as the two boys' faces wavered between surprise and fear.

"Nobody will come here to look for us?" Luca threw Crono's earlier assurance back in his face after the horses had passed. Crono wordlessly put a finger to his lips and surveyed the great wall of iron spears on the prowl for their lives. It seemed as if an entire army sought them. When they left their cover, they ran as far and fast as they could, Crono leading the way. They fled not in fear so much as a precaution to outdistance their pursuers. Their firm belief that Luca's map led them closer to the cathedral kept them strong. Coal-black branches and wet leaves slapped at their bodies in tightly-locked regions of the forest. With his eyes riveted on the darkness ahead, Crono drew his sword and cut his way through in mid-stride.

"See? Guns don't come in as handy as swords," he retorted as he fought his way through the thick woods blocking their path. "Even guns run out of bullets."

Luca wordlessly followed as the dense forest cleared ahead, and the voices and hoofbeats became forgotten. The pair stopped to catch their breath in a rocky clearing cluttered with sticks and pine needles. There they listened to the distant thrum of a river and waited for their tension to ease.

"You know, the patrol carried mighty big spears for people who aren't looking for us. Oh, but I bet they're just hunting bunnies, right, Crono?" Luca asked, still sore about Crono's gun comment.

Crono's feral and ashen face grinned. "Let's just keep out of sight."

They started down from the imperial heights at Crono's bidding, for he knew the way as a child from the day of his father's death. They avoided the wide drops and uneven terrain, and noticed the ground level steadily dropped as Darkwood disappeared. On reaching the western edge of the Lazaren Highlands, they trekked down into the darkness of the valley and completed the first leg of their journey as the cathedral drew nearer. Enshrouded by thoughts darker than the surrounding night, they infrequently spoke as they descended into the gloom.

A light rain drizzled from out of the black skies. Refreshing and beautiful, it fell on a land bleak with shadows and mist. It also proved an invaluable friend during the journey, Crono pointed out, for the rain shielded them from unwanted eyes and washed their footsteps from the terrain. But the revitalizing silver showers lasted only briefly.

The valley stretched onward into the dark land as it glittered in the rainfall. Crono grew saddened by the realization that even rain did little to dissolve the mist that cursed the people of his homeland. Starlight scarcely appeared in this bleak age of time, save where Zenan Bridge overlooked the sea and the land, where faint rays peeked through tips of the dark clouds in lucent brightness. They followed a vast stretch of grass and everglades but found it odd that no village existed in this beautiful valley. The open landscape offered a clarity they thought lost in the woods.

After departing a dense stand of shrubbery, Crono and Luca beheld the cathedral and its banners looming far in the distance. Several miles away, the church sat tall and majestic in the heart of the valley. The two boys from another age had journeyed this far without consequence, and remained undeterred by the odds that threatened to consume them.

But both knew the wishing well of luck did not keepsake much water and drained quickly.

"You know, Luca, I've never actually seen this church in our time before," Crono stated. "How did it get destroyed anyway? Why does it not exist in our time?"

Luca wearily grabbed his friend by his broad shoulder as he caught up to him and tried to catch his breath. In nowhere near as good shape as his tough friend, who journeyed at a much faster rate and exercised every day of his life, Luca had a difficult time traveling the terrain. He constantly fell over hidden rocks or tripped on uprooted branches. He adjusted his glasses for a moment, and glanced at the stone cathedral in the distance. As an eastern wind brushed his jacket and long black hair, he quietly thought. Then his handsome face lifted skyward.

"I never studied the Cathedral of the Middle Ages, so I'm not exactly certain about its destruction." He pulled out his aleskin and drank some water. "There's nothing notably significant about it, other than the fact it's a sanctuary and place of prayer. Kind of a strange place to hold the Queen of Guardia, isn't it? Seems like it would be the last place a soldier would look." He paused and chuckled. "Maybe we destroyed it. Well, not us specifically, but maybe the events we fulfill result in its destruction someday. After all, we do plan to invade the cathedral and valiantly rescue the queen, right? To deliver her from the clutches of the Dark Lord's most fearsome creatures won't be easy, and a fight of such magnitude will not go without a titanic struggle, especially with you around, Crono.

Heed my words, because unlike your words, mine are certain. Blood will flow and death will ensue before we finish."

"I have no doubt," Crono responded as his hand firmly gripped his best friend's small shoulder. "But that blood won't be ours."

The duo of unlikely companions kept their course west across the thin trails of the valley, and followed the faint line of the southern beaches as they proceeded to the cathedral. Well away from the village and castle residents who wanted them dead, they stayed as vigilant as any travelers in this part of the land. They could not risk open ground or be seen by anyone, but must remain as silent as a passing midnight shadow. Crono certainly did not wish to alter or damage any more history.

This task proved difficult enough. The smallest ripple in the fabric of time unleashed hidden events, unforeseen deaths, and uncertain fates. Struck by fierce realization, Crono froze. A lot of people would be dead if Luca hadn't arrived when he did. Luca's wide view envisioned the ends of situations in ways Crono couldn't understand, and Crono felt lucky having such a brilliant friend, one capable of reversing the doomed fate approaching their home.

The grass wetly glistened in the rainfall that passed not moments before. Outside the sheltering valley rolled the thunderous echo of the ocean. The vale's lush green everglades stretched into the unbroken distance, and wildflowers gleamed softly in gentle beds dotting the valley floor. The serenity of night's echoes passed softly and distantly, so gentle and free the soul could mend from strife and the heart embrace no unwelcome feelings. How distant the world seemed this night, Crono thought. How far he wandered in so short a time. Ivory light softly flared down from the moon, and wind brushed at the travelers as the eastern sea rocked in long uneven breaths.

Square in shape, the cathedral stood nearly two hundred feet tall and five hundred feet wide. Ringed by a black iron-wrought fence tipped with spikes and covered with old vines, its brickwork held a damp ashen color. Stone pillars supported the worn roof. Gargoyle statues perched above and peered down to either keep people away or invite them in. The entrance gates creaked with age and rust as Crono and Luca pushed them open. As they wandered across the moss-covered terrain that seeped and sank in muddy areas, no sounds echoed but their footsteps. Fog stirred in the air here, and wind eerily snaked through the several barren trees almost like a whisper of those who lay beneath the ground.

Then, as they approached the cathedral doors, a patrol of soldiers, fifteen in all, charged at Crono and Luca with torches and swords held high. "We have found them at last!" boomed a voice. "Their journey ends here!"


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter VIII—The Rogue and the Knight

Deep in the bowl of Manoria Cathedral's valley, several guards shot out of the trees and rushed forward with wild roars to detain Crono and Luca as they stood amid brambles and scrubs. Blood-red torches lit the night and reflected off the polished walls and glass windows of the church as the knights rushed from behind the cathedral and converged on Crono and Luca. With no time to run and shocked by the soldiers' ambush, Crono and Luca remained motionless as the iron-clad figures charged and pointed deadly blades at their necks.

The lieutenant blew a horn that echoed across Guardia and several faceless horsemen descended from the bleak highlands like a storm. As the knights dismounted from their steeds and closed in around the two friends, the deafening onrush mirrored the crashing ocean surging from the south as armor and weapons sparkled against the onyx cast of the looming Darkwood Forest.

A rope quickly found Luca's wrists and another Crono's. It felt rough and bristly against their skin. Then a fierce strike from the pommel of a soldier's broadsword brought the captives both to the ground. Slowly, the soldiers searched them for weapons, confiscated Crono's sword but, not recognizing Luca's guns as weapons, stuffed them back into his belt.

"So, servants of the Evil One," the lieutenant declared as he studied his captives. "You thought you could take our queen and destroy our city in a day. None escapes death and judgment."

"Listen to me!" Luca shouted as he stood on his knees and nodded with his head. "The queen's in that cathedral, and you . . ." A gag filled Luca's mouth then, and silenced all discussion. Crono struggled with the ferocity of a caged lion until a soldier struck him across the head and convinced him to stay still.

After binding and gagging the captives, a guard saluted his leader. "Sir, do we present the criminals before King Guardia or take them to prison? I think it wise to question them first, as it may aid our search for the queen."

But the lieutenant had other thoughts in mind. "These two have caused enough trouble, good soldier. They don't deserve a trial."

The guard hesitated. "Then what do you propose, sir?"

"Burn them," the man coldly replied. His eyes filled with spite. "Burn these foul servants of the Dark Lord at the stake. Let all of Guardia watch them die. Let all behold their suffering as a warning to the despicable men and women who might be enthralled to the Evil One."

"Yes, sir! We shall carry this out at once!" the underling replied as he approached the immobile captives.

Crono and Luca took in the last of this with fear burning sharper than the flames of their doomed sentence as the guards roughly lifted them to their feet and marched them towards the horses. The captors secured a length of rope to the prisoners' arms, and strapped the other end to the backs of the soldiers' steeds. Then they pulled Crono and Luca eastward through the shrub-sprinkled valley, and coerced them to jog behind horses that neither walked nor ran but kept the prisoners at a constant gallop. They journeyed through the heavy gloom and across the foggy rubble-tossed highlands to the crimson pinpricks of distant firelight bordering the stonewall gates to the Village of Truce. The soldiers pushed Crono and Luca to their limits. Their legs scraped against sharp brush, jagged rocks, and gnarled deadwood that littered the misty wilderness. The ropes clasped so tightly and wrenched so fiercely that soon their wrists leaked with blood as they stumbled onward. Exhausted and dehydrated, their chests and lungs began to burn.

Crono glanced across the rock-studded highlands and into the hazy blue tinge of the clouded eastern skies and realized the sun would rise in a few hours. He wondered if he and Luca might live to see the morning.

The captors relentlessly drove their prisoners onward to the village, where their aches would be replaced by flesh melting at the stake. For several miles, sharp rocks, coarse dirt and pointed sticks flung up by the horses' hooves pelted them. The stinging swipes and overall fatigue drained from Crono and Luca the last faint hope of their survival. The renewed strength they shared since finding each other in this bleak world disappeared.

Now the soldiers hauled the two away, toward the dimness of the eastern horizon that cloaked Guardia's skies like the black robes of death's embrace as Crono and Luca trotted onward. Thoughts of suffering a searing death stabbed at them deeper than fear.

When they reached Truce Village, the guards detached their captives from the horses, and Crono and Luca found their wrists swollen and red, and their faces lathered in blood and streaked with ash. The soldiers led them to the empty square of land where Leene's Bell would one day ring. Roused by the activity, the confused denizens of the hamlet emerged from their shanty homes to watch the strange procession. Torches and lanterns lit the shady lanes upon which the soldiers led Crono and Luca. Chained dogs barked and snarled from wooden porches, and the bone-chilling creak of flaming lanterns echoed in the wind. The lieutenant dismounted his horse and knelt next to Crono and Luca as his bitter eyes regarded them in cruel wonder. Then the man removed the gags from their mouths and sneered at Crono.

"So that all of Guardia can hear you scream," he explained and held up the ragged gag. "Did you seriously think for one minute you could defy the king, that you could betray the Kingdom of Guardia and take our beloved queen?" Crono did not respond. His expression mirrored only a vacant unfeeling mask. The soldier menacingly glared. "Answer me, vermin!" He punched Crono in the face and knocked him aside. Crono didn't move but flexed his jaw and stared the man down. The lieutenant stood and ordered his men to haul the prisoners to the stake for the death ceremony. "Bring dry wood and fire." Some grabbed Crono and Luca by the ropes securing their wrists and led them away. Several villagers curiously studied the preparations with wrinkled brows from the windows of their homes.

Crono noticed the tavern girl, the blacksmith and the bartender in the crowd, who all watched in disbelief as the soldiers hauled the red-haired youth and his friend across the village square.

From then on, Crono and Luca lowered their faces, and kept their eyes fixed to their booted feet as they walked to a demise they had tried so strenuously to avoid. Prodded by shoves, the prisoners approached a broad wooden platform in the center of the village. Tied by the same blood-spackled length of rope that had pulled them here, Crono and Luca's backs would share the same thick pole where they would burn from the feet upward. The knots firmly held as the soldiers securely trussed Crono and Luca to the pole. The ropes made the cuts rebleed from the boys' weakened and dizzied bodies, and the world seemed to rush away into black spirals as their lives flashed before their eyes.

Not only did Crono and Luca kill Princess Nadia with a time-disrupting machine, but now they would die despite their efforts to protect those they risked so much to save. Who now remained to finish the task? Those meant to save the queen from her doom headed toward destinies on other roads. Fortunes shattered when the time travelers arrived, for now that Queen Leene could never be saved, the world four hundred years ahead altered, perhaps even further. Hope lay broken like glass fallen to stone.

Crono gazed down from the pole, and his eyes fell to the bulge that concealed one of Luca's guns, but he knew he could not reach it. Too late for them now. He wanted to fight, but any action seemed in vain. Nothing empowered him to continue fighting. A sea of grief had drowned his courage, and the bonds of his fatal sentence shackled his brave heart. Overhead, the black storm clouds reflected the bleakness he felt within as he stared into the dismal village.

Soldiers hauled out dried straw and wood and placed handfuls at Crono's and Luca's feet. A few minutes later, the lieutenant stepped up to the platform, sneered at Crono and pointed a torch at both of their faces to remind them again of their fates. "So ends the tale of those who dare betray Guardia," he told them with hate-filled eyes. "Fire will end your reign in life, just as it will start your new life in hell!" He faced the crowd of peasants who had gathered below. "Attention all villagers of Truce, men and women of Guardia! It has been some time since last we burned someone at this stake! We gather here this night to witness the death of the Dark Lord's most allegiant servants! These traitors have denied all promise of sworn fealty to our king and to all free folk like you. Earlier this evening, we discovered our queen missing when last this young man," he pulled Crono's hair so everyone could see his face, "spoke with her. And for that, the king has called for his immediate death. He and his immoral friend shall burn in the flames they planned to bring upon us!"

As the soldier spoke, Luca Devir caught sight of a man in black pushing his way to the front of the small crowd. "I will fulfill my duty to see these men justly destroyed!" the lieutenant continued. "And for that, I hold up this torch." The lieutenant turned to face Crono and Luca and grinned behind the flames as his eyes darkened. Crono's and Luca's blood froze at the thought of their punishment. "Farewell, allies of darkness. When this battle ends, the Dark Lord shall join you in hell." The lieutenant bent to touch the flaming torch to the wood, but before he could a spinning blade flew out of nowhere and struck the back of his hand. The man yelped and dropped the torch. "Who dares?" the soldier cried and grasped his pained hand. When he turned around, a black-cloaked figure punched him in the face, and knocked him off the platform to crash to the ground.

"You have contended with the righteous," announced the dark stranger as he brandished two glimmering swords and with them pushed the rest of the rallying men backwards. His cloak wildly waved in the wind. "Death upon you!"

The dazed lieutenant had struck the earth with a terrible crash, but he flipped back to his feet, roared as he drew his sword, and pointed it at the man in black.

"Soldiers, kill him! A rogue has come among us!" The lightning-quick stranger brought up his swords and cut the ropes binding Crono and Luca. He pivoted in the same smooth effortless motion, then spun into the guards and drove them back from the platform. His hands flicked so quickly that he flipped Crono's sword from one of the guards into the air and tossed the blade back to its rightful keeper.

"Lay down your weapons, soldiers of Guardia!" the stranger in black yelled in a storm of fury and whirling blades whose silver light flashed from all places at once. The solitary dark form appeared little more than an unfeeling weapon in the shadows of the coming dawn as he kept ten men at bay. "They will avail you no longer! Stand away and you will be spared!"

Crono and Luca rallied at once, raised up sword and guns, and stood their ground. Luca shot a few men in the knees and so kept the rest of the soldiers frozen and terrified of his weapons. The three companions circled the wooden platform in a solid defensive ring that prevented anyone from attacking from behind.

"I don't know who you are, but thanks, man," Crono said to his shadowy ally as his blade and eyes shone in moonlit determination.

A smile darkly flashed from the shadow of the stranger's hood. "Don't mention it, kid."

Immediately, several guards ran up to the platform from a distant alleyway. The three companions could not possibly hold back this quick and organized assault.

"They're too many!" Luca shouted as he shot another man in the knees and reloaded his gun. Even in that moment, he refused to kill his own people. "We'll be overrun!"

But the man in black sprang forward at once, and pulled from his belt a strange gray powder the color of damp ashes. Driving his swords into the platform, he cast the dust to the earth upon the fallen torch the lead guard had dropped in the struggle. Instantly, flames swept to life in a great wall of fire that burst upward between the guards and the three companions. The soldiers fell back against it and could no longer attack as the stranger in black stoically stared from beyond the fire. The wall of flames flared skyward and trapped the three as the lieutenant maniacally laughed. "You fools! All of you are fools! You're going to burn anyway!"

The flames, drawn to the dried straw and wood, licked closer to the trio. They slowly backed away, but the stranger in black offered another trick up his sleeve. Shifting his black cloak, he pulled out a grappling hook from the array of many lockpicks, tools and knives strapped to his chest and cast it up across the platform, where it struck a high wall at the northeastern edge of the small village. A perfect throw, it hit its mark accurately and securely.

The stranger turned to face Crono, grimly gazed into his eyes and handed Crono the rope with a nod. "Go, kid. You must leave me behind. Swing for the wall and climb. Turn right and you will find eastern hills leading into a forest. You can jump to them from that spot and head into the woods. I will meet you there. Go quickly now, both of you."

Crono's brows knit in concern. "What about you?"

The stranger harshly shoved him. "Damn it man, I said go! Now!"

This time, Crono didn't pause as he and Luca took hold of the rope together and started climbing, hand over hand, as they soared above the awestruck crowds and clear of knights who watched them with mouths gaping. "So long, suckers!" Crono shouted, swung wide of the soldiers and kicked in the face those trying to block his way. Still clutching the rope for dear life, Crono and Luca abruptly slammed into the sides of Truce Village's towering walls, where they scrambled up the rest of the rope and aimed for the summit.

The soldiers futilely charged after them, and jumped up to clutch the boys' ankles as Crono and Luca climbed to the safety of the rooftops not a few feet beyond. Crono and Luca gazed across the torchlit village and the sullen ill-lighted waters of the Black Marshes towards the northern horizon where Kelvenforge Mountain ominously loomed. Crono picked up the grappling hook and reeled it back in, out of reach of the shouting guards, and placed it into his thick robes. As the stranger foretold, to their right they found a series of dismal hills, close enough to jump onto from the stone walls, that extended into the distance as a dreary forest wreathed in fog.

Without hesitation, they bounded from the borders and shot across the uneven hills stretching into the woods, sprinted through the lopsided terrain, and ran as far and fast as their legs could carry them. When they reached the trees and stepped into the dim atmosphere, Crono scanned the area and discovered they ran through the woods of his home four hundred years in the future. He recognized the surroundings, the pattern of the roads, the lake, and the empty stretch of land where his farm would one day sit.

Their flight proved a harrowing one as they sped through the forest of gray mist and trees mournful with age to flee the sea of armored men. From the shady backwoods, insects hummed and the balmy glow of fireflies floated along the treetops. The slate-colored forest knifed into the dreary black skies, and its twisted branches cast distorted moonlit shadows along the rocky leaf-strewn trail. The crunch of sticks and matted soil echoed underfoot.

Crono and Luca didn't know how far they ran, but they breathlessly collapsed in a broad region of the woods where fallen logs provided a widespread view, and caught their breath as they waited for their shady rescuer to appear.

"Do you see anything?" Luca asked, gasping. "Did he make it out alive?"

Soot streaked Crono's handsome face as he stared into the forest darkness and didn't move. "I don't know, Luca. I hope he did. So much smoke and fire blocked my view. I didn't see if he made it." They rose to their feet and grimly accepted that perhaps the stranger in black had died. For a long time, they didn't speak. In the ashen light, their eyes and faces filled with worry. Wind rustled dead leaves that grayly shimmered in the moonlight above as the wintry cast of the ghostly woods surrounded them like a hazy dreamworld.

"Should we go back?" Luca asked, not happy about the idea, but feeling they should do something. "What if he needs us?"

Crono slowly shook his head no. "I think that would be selfish. That man risked his life for us. We should not rob him of that sacrifice, though I hope he made it out alive."

At that pause, a tall figure in black soundlessly stepped from the shadows. His hood still covered his face as he materialized. "Not just alive, but I made it here before you guys did. What kept you?"

Crono approached the man. "But why did you help us?"

"I know better than to believe the lies that peg you as an enemy of Guardia," the stranger whispered as he neared them.

"And you are certainly no enemy of mine. The fate back there did not belong to you, Crono."

Both Crono and Luca stared at him in confusion. How did he know Crono's name?

"Who are you?" the red-haired youth asked as he tried to peek beneath the man's hood. The night hid so much that only the line of the stranger's mouth could be seen.

The stranger in black frowned as his dark cloak waved in the wind. "Who am I?"

Crono gazed into the darkness of the man's hood. "Why did you help us?"

A fierce smile crossed the black figure's mouth. "Because of my code. In this crazy mixed-up world, any man who gives another his beer when he has only one bears a pure heart." Slowly, he pulled down his hood and revealed himself. He stood rugged and tall in the moonlight.

Crono gaped. "Toma! Why have you come?"

Toma shrugged and brushed back a lock of his long brown hair as his gray eyes dimmed in the light. "The call of destiny. I may not have saved the queen, but I saved someone this week! I could not stand to see you die." He spit on the ground. "Never had much respect for the imperial bastards anyway, especially that lieutenant, walking around like he owns the joint. No respect for me or anyone at all, the fetcher. And if he thinks he can take my woman, he'd best watch his back . . ."

Crono held out his hand to thank Toma, who finally quieted down and took it in his own. "We'd be dead if not for you. We owe you one, Toma." But the rugged adventurer simply laughed at the statement. Crono recalled that same chuckle from the tavern, and he suddenly wondered if Toma had saved their lives while inebriated. If so, he shuddered to imagine how well Toma fought when sober.

Luca knelt atop fallen tree trunks, and stared westward with a pair of infrared binoculars he had invented two years earlier. When the hazy green outline of horsemen reflected in the lenses, he interrupted Crono and Toma. "Um, guys, we've got trouble."

"How many?" Crono asked. He noticed the faint glow of torchlight brightening in the distance and listened to the thundering roll of oncoming horsemen. The soldiers cut through the mist, lit up the grim forest in a rush, and approached like the waters of a flood. Horse hooves and yells rumbled through the gloom.

Luca shook his head in disbelief and glanced once more into his invention. "At least twenty. They're about three hundred yards west of here." The three allies watched as a group of soldiers stormed their way wielding swords and torches as they cried out for Crono's death. Frenzied shadows and distant flickers of red light caught between the interwoven branches of the lightless trees.

"Let's move!" Luca shouted as he disappeared into the mist, with Toma and Crono following. They avoided open spaces and roads easily navigable by horses and instead traveled through the forest with the knowledge that riders could not pass easily through the terrain. Luca led them back through the woods towards the steep hills through which they entered. The hulking peaks of Kelvenforge scraped the tips of the clouds northward, and the haunting sounds of the distant Black Marshes filled the night.

Crono glanced over his shoulder and noticed the distant eastern skies lightening to blue above the dingy trees. He hoped they could lose the soldiers and reach the cathedral before dawn revealed their presence. The shouts of the soldiers grew louder in the darkness behind them, and the blazing red hues of the torchlight appeared as devil eyes watching from the gloom. Crono knew the steel-clad men might pounce on them at any moment and slice him to pieces. He half expected a spear to hurl through the night and strike him dead.

"Not this way!" Toma yelled a few yards behind them, and urged Crono and Luca to stop. "The horsemen yield to the tighter regions of the wood. We cannot risk open terrain."

Despite Toma's idea, both Crono and Luca realized they could not delay their mission any longer. The days of hiding and running had ended. The death of Queen Guardia loomed closer with every swing of the pendulum of time.

Ahead, through the misty tree-laden hills, they could see the faint torchlit bulk of the walls from which they had jumped into the hills. In his mind, Crono hastily shaped an escape plan: Cross the cluttered shelters of Truce Village by jumping from the buildings till they reached the edge of the town and escape into the dark misty highlands. He initially thought to follow the wall all the way around to the western side, but he anticipated archers positioned atop the barracks fronting the entrance to Truce Village. Crono and Luca, of the same mind, did not dodge the road or heed Toma's warning. Armored in the sense this chosen path led to the cathedral, they sprinted at full speed.

"Where you going?" Toma shouted in disbelief and ran after them. "Why risk open terrain? That's not the way!"

"Sorry, Toma!" Crono called back. "If we stop, we may never save the queen."

Toma stared in wonder. His face reflected confusion in the predawn light, and his brown hair seemed as wild as his flint-gray eyes. "You two are the most reckless, thickheaded bastards I've ever met! But you are my soulmates of war! Let us fight on till death do us part!"

Behind them a cry shot through the darkness. The horseman detected the three outlaws escaping the woods and chased them. But the irregular territory and bumpy winding hills considerably slowed their mounts. Just as the raining spears flew at the three companions from the shadowed woods, Crono and Luca burst into full stride, jumped all the way from the edge of the hills and cleared the distance between the elevated land and the top of the stonewall borders.

Toma Draconis followed behind his fellow rogues, and maniacally laughed as if enjoying a sport. The denizens of Truce called out in disbelief as the once-hooded criminal face turned out to be the reckless Toma! Crono gratefully nodded back to him. At that moment, it dawned on Crono for the first time that even though he and Luca changed history, Toma would still play a key role in the rescue of Queen Leene. The three companions bounded across the walls and sprung to the roofs of the village homes and shops. They jumped from rooftop to rooftop and avoided the irate soldiers shouting and throwing spears from below.

When they dropped onto a particularly large roof, they noticed an assembled line of ten guards barring their passage. The lieutenant stepped forward with a dark grin, and brandished his sword while the rest of his clan did the same. "End of the line, lawbreakers! We stop you here!"

But Crono had other ideas. "Take the end of the grappling hook, Luca." Crono reached into his robes. "We'll knock them from the roof, jump down and keep running." Instantly Crono bolted forward and charged towards the guards as Luca quickly fell into step with his battle-smart friend. Crono tossed Luca the other end of the rope in mid-stride. Yards apart, pulling the rope tight, Crono and Luca ran at the line of guards, who didn't have enough time to bolt out of the way. The lieutenant's grin vanished in an instant as he gazed into Crono's venomous eyes.

"Bow to your queen's rescuers!" Crono replied as he and Luca knocked the guards from their feet with the thick rope.

The cumbersome armor prevented the guards from maintaining their balance, and they plunged from the rooftop like rocks into a river. Toma beat down those who managed to stay upright, slammed the pommel of his sword into the backs of their heads, and knocked them out. He scattered the other men backwards, guarded Crono and Luca, and gave them the chance to fulfill their promise as they journeyed into the west. Without slowing and now side by side together, the three heroes jumped from the westernmost roof, hopped onto the village walls, jumped to the ground and fled towards the safety of the Lazaren Highlands.

Men sought to impede their retreat, but Toma's swords flew in too swiftly, an ironic fate for the soldiers, for Toma Draconis topped the list as their king's most fearsome warrior. Not a senseless killer, he did not take the lives of the guards but instead knocked them down and out. He frowned as he noticed more guards, on horseback, pounding toward them. Organized and furious now, the horsemen charged. Crono kept pace despite the grim odds.

"We won't make it!" Toma shouted to his allies, completely outnumbered. "The terrain ahead is far too level. The sun rises soon and there will be no place to hide. They'll catch up to us in moments."

But Crono refused to stop running. Determined to reach the sanctuary of the cathedral before the soldiers nabbed them, he gritted his teeth as he guided his friends ahead as far and fast as he could. They tried to slow their pursuers by ascending the highlands, for the ground rose steadily upward, too steeply for horses to scale without strain. The summit of the highlands became Crono and his friends' worst enemy, though, as it provided the guards' mounts with suitable groundwork. They managed to run at least two miles across the highlands before the horsemen arrived faster than they expected. In moments, they surrounded them, cut off their passage and a ring of lances pointed at their throats.

The disheveled and clearly aggravated lieutenant dismounted his horse. His face stayed calm for a time as he stood gazing at Crono in silence. Realizing Crono's helplessness in the deadly ring of lances, the lieutenant punched the red-haired youth in his gut as hard as he could. Toma angrily stepped forward, but the sharp pressure of an iron lance at his throat restrained his actions. The man knocked Crono from his feet, then kneeled down and grabbed him by the tunic front.

"I will not be made a fool of, you despicable servant of Magus!" he dared speak the name.

Crono spit in his face. "You've already proven yourself a fool by thinking I'm your enemy!"

The enraged lieutenant wiped his cheek and drew his sword. "I shall rip the screams from your tortured soul, scum!" He brought up his blade to kill Crono, but sunrise saved Crono's life.

The clouds cleared in the east and the sunrays flared brightly. Undimmed before the black horizon, the light blinded the man for a moment and faintly lit glimpses of golden chainmail. Crono watched in disbelief as a brilliant red cloak with a flaring gold insignia of the lion flew by in a gust of wind, and a gleaming white sword rose up to sweep aside the blade that almost slit Crono's throat. The lieutenant glared as the huge golden figure stepped forward, dwarfed him and all his men and rendered them harmless. The mighty knight's chainmail flowed down in sparkling sunlit rings as he flung the circle of lances backwards. The frightened exclamation that broke free of the lieutenant's mouth answered Crono's question.

"L-Lord Evanheart! W-What are you doing, sir?"

The great captain's glacier-cold eyes fixed on the soldier in rage, while the other guards respectfully straightened before the powerful warrior. "You will release these men," Evanheart ordered. "They are heroes of the land. How dare you sentence them to death without the king's consent. I should strap you in irons for such an act of bold disregard!"

The lieutenant stared in disbelief. "No, that cannot be! Heroes, you say? They have taken our queen! The Dark Lord himself sent them as emissaries. They wanted to destroy the king and rule over all of Guardia and . . ."

"Enough!" Evanheart roared. "Sir Zenan and his allies are friends to us. Crono himself destroyed the Malordra Witch. Because of his courage, she no longer haunts the forest or the western bridge."

The soldier shook his head in disgust. "I'll not believe such lies. Has he so easily blind-sighted you, Captain Evanheart? An impossible task. To think otherwise would deem you a nonsensical believer and fool. Surely, the witch cannot possibly be defeated without . . ."

Evanheart grabbed the man by his throat and yanked him towards the bridge. "Take a look westward. No longer does black mist dwell under the bridge, neither the grace of sunlight or moonlight I tell you." He released the man, and turned his attention to the rest of the knights. "Sir Crono Zenan, our friend, has brought no harm to our people or this land. Light shines from a place the world has never seen, or have you all forgotten the last words of Cyrus?" After a long moment of silence, Evanheart continued. "We can traverse the bridge and forests safely again. And I have already dispatched craftsmen to rebuild the bridge so that all citizens may walk it freely. The southern isles and the north shall stand together as one, with the fate of this war altered in our favor. Magus controls the sea, so we could not travel by ship, but we now have a means of transporting men of the south to join our ranks! This miracle would not come to pass had Sir Crono not stepped forth to help us in the way Cyrus foretold."

"The Bridge of Fatality . . ."

"The Bridge of Zenan," Lord Evanheart corrected the frightened guard. Every eye, especially Luca's, drew to Crono in sudden disbelief. "No longer will it bear that name. Not in this life or the next. It has been named Zenan Bridge, and will remain so, for the courage of this man vanquished its curse. I now proclaim the bridge of the west in the mighty name of Zenan. Let its legend fill your hearts in the same way it did mine. Take strength from its name and know that light can be found even from a place where the world has never seen it."

Not knowing how to react, the lieutenant stared at Crono a moment, then slowly agreed. Each word seemed forced. "Then he and his friends shall be welcome to walk these lands again as free men. All charges have been dropped, and all sins forgiven. Go in peace." The lieutenant apologetically bowed to Crono and his friends, and other knights followed suit.

"You have helped this land greatly, Sir Zenan," Evanheart told him again. "But answer me this, what truly did happen to the Queen of Guardia? I know you did not kidnap her."

Crono glanced off into the roaring sea. "I don't know," he said. He could not find the words to recount the entire tale, for it transcended his own understanding. "But my friend Luca and I will see her returned. I want all of you to focus on the war. Win this battle for the sake of all humanity, and rest assured. We will find the Queen of Guardia."

Evanheart studied him for a long time, then nodded. "So be it, Sir Zenan. I entrust her safety into your hands. The task of saving her now falls to you. Continue whatever journey you embarked on before it led to this sorry fate. Trust that no other in my command will impede you again." The knight turned to face his soldiers and shouted. "Return to the castle and inform his majesty that Zenan Bridge shall be rebuilt. Send emissaries to the southern province for aid. Let the people of the south hear our cries. Justice has been done." Then the soldiers and knights proceeded north towards the dense tangle of Darkwood Forest, and rode off into the distance until lost from sight.

Toma stretched his cramped muscles and then shuddered in sudden pain as he clutched his chest with a wince. Crono worriedly glanced at him, and realized as Toma pulled away his hand that it dripped with blood. "I've been cut," Toma stated in surprise, and noticed a red pool dampening his clothes. "When did that happen?"

Crono stepped up to Toma. "Do you need help back to the village? You should wrap that."

Toma grinned, and his gray eyes mischievously twinkled. "Ah, I've suffered worse. I should be all right on my own. Save the queen in my place, Crono. I don't think I can go on with you two. When you guys come back to the village, we'll tie one on! The drinks are on me, what do you say?"

Crono smiled but ignored the offer. "I'm sorry, Toma. When this ends, I fear we'll never see each other again. We'll return home soon, and I don't expect we'll come back. We will miss you."

Toma nodded and sadly smiled. "Well, I had fun while it lasted. Good luck in your travels, kid."

Crono reached out his hand. "I owe you my life. I wouldn't be standing here if not for you."

Toma laughed again and patted him on the shoulder. "Nah, Sir Crono, you owe nothing of the sort. You gave me a treasure in life. Though you say you will never come back, I do hope to see both of you again someday."

Crono hesitated in confusion. "I gave you a treasure? I gave you only my drink."

Toma shook his head with a sharp smile. "No actually, I think you saved my relationship with Emily Zenan. She just needed to hear I loved her from someone else, from one who didn't think ill of me because of my appearance. I think it may . . ." He stopped short. "Wait a minute, you two have the same last name. Are you related?"

Crono smiled and patted him on the shoulder. "Nah, it's a strange coincidence, my friend. Get yourself back to the village and heal, Toma Draconis. I will never forget your actions last night, nor will I discount the hope you brought to us and the Land of Guardia."

Still confused, Toma turned away and slowly limped down the highlands towards the warm beckoning firelight of Truce Village. Crono suspected Toma would ponder, all the way home, the deeper meaning of his words.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter IX—A Rose in the Moonlight

Along the boundaries of the scrub-choked highlands, screened by thickets and a small campfire, Crono Zenan and Luca Devir slept until midday. Nearly crippled with fatigue, Luca took only enough time to retrieve two chunks of dried wood from his backpack and coax a fire before drifting into black comforting sleep. The flames richly burned for several hours and kept the duo warm through the cold misty morning as they fitfully slept. Then they spent the rest of the day covering the same distance they had crossed before their abduction by the soldiers, and entered the cathedral's valley as nightfall cloaked the Land of Guardia. The endless dense groves of trees and shrubbery led deeper into the grasslands as Crono and Luca followed a road winding through everglades that glimmered with ponds, forests and tiny streams.

A wilderness symphony echoed through the falling evening as Crono and Luca trekked onward. Guided by the moonlight shining down from the clouds where Zenan Bridge seemed to slash the night sky and free the stars, they encountered no trouble. The everglades proved easy to navigate compared with the bleak expanse of the highlands and Darkwood. The fresh texture of the vast meadows felt soft under their feet as they passed unnoticed into the night to stand at last before the cathedral.

Looming high and supported by parapets and buttresses, its steeply pitched gables speared into the heavens and seemed to call out to the gods to bless the holy ground. The pinnacles adorning the roof pierced the starlit sky and reflected the fullness of the moon's lunar energy. A stained-glass window of emerald vines amid a single rose forged of ruby radiated the light shining somewhere within. The lofty pointed arches stabbed into the sky, and at the church's apex stood the spire of a bell, raised high above the cathedral like an angel halo. The structure hulked in the heart of the valley like an ageless fortress surrounded by a frozen army. But it appeared more as a great tombstone embedded in the earth than a haven of prayer and safety. Moon and starlight spilled down through breaks in the distant skies, and illuminated the valley floor for miles.

The night echoed the soft burble of flowing water. Trees stood tall and clustered as if attempting to ward off a chill escaping the entombed overall darkness of the cathedral. Nodding to his friend, Crono began opening the mural-emblazoned doors. He took a firm grip on their handles and strained backwards. But even Crono's mighty grip could not budge the doorways leading in. He called on his friend for aid and together they pulled with all their strength, but the doors would not yield. The entrance remained sealed like stone and as silent and enclosed as the mystery surrounding Leene and the strange fate that brought Crono and Luca here. They ran their hands along the length and breadth of the cathedral walls to seek a trick lever, and inspected the trees for anything that might induce the doors to open. They surveyed the niches in the architecture and the leafy canopies along the polished walls that protected it.

In the end, Luca solved its mystery. The young inventor, convinced the way in lay somewhere in the murals of the church, slid his hands across the doors. Above the entrance, brighter and more deeply etched, rested a picture of a small garden of black flowers with a haunting picture of a ghostly woman cupping a full silver moon in her hands. Instinctively, Luca brought out a small mirror and slowly angled it. He thought if he shone moonlight on the red rose the doors would open. Like flames rising from ashes, the murals glowed in the misty night, but then suddenly faded into darkness and once again allowed no entry into the cathedral.

Luca frowned as his eyes studied the girl cupping the moon in her hands, then sighed when he realized his mistake. "This door won't open for us, Crono. I may have solved the riddle, but that woman above hinders us."

Crono inspected the mural of the woman cradling the moon and glanced over at Luca. "Why not? Try the mirror again. Maybe you didn't shine it long enough."

Luca shook his head no and slipped the mirror back in his pack. "It's futile. Of the several potential methods to open this door, each one consists of a scattered variation of clues hidden in the murals along the church. It's sealed because this place acts as a sanctuary. Only somebody who has been here before can open this door. The moonlight on the rose would work, but not for us."

Crono crossed his arms in dismay. "Why not?"

Luca gestured above. "We can only open it this way if a girl shines moonlight on the rose. That's why a woman cups the moon. Only a female can open the door."

Crono kicked the doors. "Well, that's a bit sexist, don't you think? Too bad Nadia's not here. The door would probably open for her."

Luca nodded as he studied the murals again and searched for a connection.

Crono gazed at his friend. "You know it's funny. The night I went to see your invention, that guy who ran your Battle Trainer told me something strange." He shook his head as if gathering the memories of that day, and suppressed the sadness when his mind drifted to Nadia. "He showed me an old scroll depicting someone with bright red hair and a blue robe, someone who fought in the wars of this time." Crono stared off into the distant sea. "Everyday I've woken up in this place, I feel that description becoming more real. I hope the book doesn't point to me because I don't want to go to war. I can't stand to be in this place another minute."

Luca firmly gripped Crono's shoulder. "Don't worry, friend. We'll be out of here soon, and this place will become a memory. Once we finish our task in the cathedral, we're going home. I promise you." The inventor glanced around as he watched stars spill gently across the muddy ponds and eerie trees, then turned back to the church. "It makes sense only women can open the door. Men customarily start wars while women act as nurturers. The magic's intention doesn't suggest bias but an inviolable way to keep women and children safe."

Crono lost all patience as he recalled Nadia's fate. "We're going in the old-fashioned way then! Stand aside, Luca."

Luca stared. "Whoa, Crono, what are you . . ."

But Crono darted away and left the young scientist, scratching his head, to follow. After Luca turned the corner, he watched as Crono climbed a tree, placed his feet in the branches and pulled himself up to the trunk's sturdy midsection. Without bothering to explain his wild plan, Crono jumped onto thicker branches that supported his heavyweight frame, and employed arms and legs to reach the left side of the tree where the branches abutted the upper windows.

Luca followed after and scrambled to catch up to his friend. "I can't remember the last time you and I climbed a tree together. How fun!" Then Luca paused. He knew what his friend planned. "Crono, don't!" But his admonition arrived too late. Crono hung onto an upper limb for balance so he could pull free his sword, then smashed it through the well-sculpted glass with a war cry and jumped to the rim of the cathedral window, where he kicked over a massive bookcase lining the adjacent wall. Then he ducked alone into the dark interior.

Luca shook his head from outside. "I'm very disappointed in you," he yelled in. "What would your mother have to say about you desecrating holy artifacts in a great sanctuary?" He sighed as he reached the rim of the broken window. "The cathedral truly won't last much longer with you here."

The red-haired youth shrugged. "The church won't exist in the future, even if I hadn't gone back into time, so it really doesn't matter what we do to it. Just man up for once in your life, nancy boy."

Luca slowly edged himself into the church, carefully tried not to break anything further, and avoided the colorful shards still clinging to the window. "I can't believe I'm doing this," Luca grumbled as he wriggled in.

"What, breaking and entering? You pulled the same stunt at the castle. How's this any different?"

Luca grinned. "True. Help me lift this up." Together he and Crono pushed the bookcase back to where it stood before they entered, and concealed their trespass.

The interior smelled of unmistakable evil that transported Crono back to the grimness of the Black Marshes and Darkwood Forest. Crono recognized the scent as the same dizzying sensations of the purple fire of Elvira's grave. The hazy incense dulled the senses and overpowered the eyes with a need to sleep as it permeated the air with an aura of earthly and decomposing graves. Even the sculpted glass windows appeared empty of light as their haunting images of gods and goddesses glared down. The empty sanctuary seemed forgotten, vast as a small castle, and layered in dust with all traces of humanity vanished as the two stood there surveying everything. Several rows of worn mossy benches trundled back from the ivory altar, and a sooty red carpet bordered with chalky seams ran down the middle of the chamber to the entrance doors. Four great pillars supported the sanctuary, one in each corner, and the three stone steps leading to the altar radiated a poisonous green. Crono knew, from viewing the cathedral outside, that the building could not comprise only this theatre-sized chamber. He sensed other passageways concealed within.

"Strange to find a cathedral covered in dust and decay," Luca declared. "Many pious folk should come here to give offerings and pray for their families, especially in this time of war and evil."

The dark cathedral unnerved the pair with the somber impression they stood within a tomb, forgotten by the world of light they left behind. Faint voices eerily echoed somewhere below the stone's blackened confines. The air felt dry and dead, locked and enclosing, even haunted as it sapped the breath of those who entered. The only light within spilled from a series of candles lining the far wall.

"And just how do candles burn when no one seems to have passed this way for ages?" Luca observed. Then they noticed an abnormality in both the candles and the firelight, which glowed not orange and yellow, but lavender and blue, flames of magic. Again, the memory of the clearing struck Crono as he recalled fighting the horrifying witch. But even more frightening, a red liquid seeped around the rim of the windows they passed not a moment before. Spilled blood?

"Wow." Luca broke the uncomfortable silence. "This counts by far as the creepiest place I've ever seen." He nervously smiled at Crono. "Well, looks like she's not here. Let's go."

Crono ignored Luca and held his sword close as he glanced up the chamber walls, where he sensed demons crawling with spider-like movements along the ceiling. The faint stirrings of something unseen echoed from above. It seemed inhuman, silent and purposeful in the dark. For a moment, Crono thought he made out a figure lost in the shadows as something green and black traversed the rafters. Crono's eyes gleamed in determination as he studied that ceiling and tried to focus on what crept there, but to no avail.

"What's wrong?" Luca asked as he faced Crono. "You've seemed troubled ever since we arrived."

Crono didn't respond. He looked confused yet convinced that he saw something skitter. He regained his senses all at once, glanced around one final time, and half expected something to appear from the darkness and attack. For the first time Luca noticed Crono gripping his sword so tightly his knuckles turned white.

"Why do you keep looking at the ceiling?" Luca whispered with eyes mingled with concern as he glanced up. "Do you see something up there? What is it?"

"Nothing," Crono replied as his eyes fell to his friend. "It's nothing. Just a trick of the light."

"This place will be full of them, certainly," Luca agreed. "Stay sharp."

But Crono couldn't focus. He stayed reminded of what they had at stake if they failed, and his hands shook with the knowledge.

Even now, Luca's words still haunted him. The premonition always whispered that Nadia would never return. It followed Crono wherever he walked, and he could not stop its voice. It whispered in his heart and echoed in the church like a revenant spirit matching the dark thoughts in this tomblike chamber. Burning inside, only a single thought faintly cast it out. Do I follow the right path? Do I fight in vain? Nothing in his life mattered more than this. Nadia's pendant fell into his hands for a reason, so it could bring him to this place, to preserve the flow of time, to fight the battle no one else could face, to be the sun that never shone. Only his growing love for Nadia gave him the strength to follow through, and even though she didn't exist, her presence felt more real in that moment than anything he had ever experienced.

"Luca," Crono stated and drew his friend's gaze. "What will happen if we fail to save Leene?"

Luca despondently shook his head. "Of several possibilities, nothing is certain except we can't afford to fail. Queen Guardia's rescue proved of paramount importance to the soldiers of this war. The story of her salvation from Magus' clutches produced such strong effects it led our people to victory. The Dark Lord kidnapped her right under the very noses of the imperial palace. He destroyed their morality. If we don't save her, what else could give our people hope? Humanity may even throw itself at Magus' gates in surrender, and we'll never win the war."

Crono sadly nodded. "Couldn't we find the answer in the history book?"

Luca slowly pulled the book free from his backpack. "Crono, these pages will record events based on our actions. We can't turn back and flee to the mountains for home when Guardia needs us most. What if we returned to our time and the world belonged to mystics?" A long moment of silence ensued. Luca breathed deeply. "The paradox will not be undone if we let the flow of time follow through on its own. We must take command and prevent the doom of the queen."

Crono glanced around. "Then let's start looking for clues."

Luca stoically studied Crono. "Like what?"

"I don't know. Maybe footprints, concealed doors, anything. We're dealing with magic, Luca. I'm counting on you to figure it out and combat this sorcery with your science."

Luca wolfishly grinned. "What a clever way to inspire me and mask your laggard efforts. Don't forget, you're in this story too, Crono. We need a team effort, just as it's been since Nadia disappeared into that portal."

Together they quietly searched the cathedral shadows. Somewhere within its confines, the secret waited. They sought between the benches, around the lining of the carpet, along the walls and colored windows behind the candles, behind stone pillars, and inspected every nook and crevice.

"You know, we can surmise another entrance lies dormant in the murals," Luca pointed out as he glanced up. "On the walls, see? Just like the doors outside, maybe the pictures here can tell us something."

Crono slowly nodded. "This one makes the most impact on me." He pointed to a picture of a canopy of leaves amid a bed of roses thick with black thorns.

Luca pondered for a moment. "Now you're getting somewhere. Outside, roses revealed an opening. Maybe this one will, too." He uncertainly hesitated. "Well, maybe not. To several traditions, roses symbolize love, but in this unholy place reigned over by a Dark Lord, I doubt an act of love will lead us any further inside."

Crono slowly raised an eyebrow. "Luca, I'm not getting friendly with you, if that's what you're hinting at."

Luca shrugged. "Don't flatter yourself, carrot top. I'm way out of your league."

Crono uncertainly shook his head. "The odds of another rose allowing the second entrance would seem way too convenient. What exactly do we know of this place? Doesn't its abandonment seem odd? It offers not a single trace of human passing, only these strange purple flames that burn without anyone here to tend them. Definitely the work of the Dark Lord and too unnerving to be anything else."

Luca froze. "Crono, I found something."

Luca knelt down to the floor and Crono crouched with him. "What is it? What did you find?"

Luca picked the thing up and lifted it to their faces. "A hairpin!"

Instantly, all of Crono's excitement drained away. "A hairpin?" But Luca's smile brightened like the sun, and he seemed proud of his discovery. "Luca, that could mean anything. Maybe it belongs to one of the chapel maidens or a little girl who lost it on her last visit. I don't know. It could mean loads of things!"

Luca sighed. "You know, for someone who has no need of glasses, you really don't use your eyes, do you? Follow me, punkhead." Luca slowly walked to the other side of the church with the hairpin, and cradled it near one of the glowing candles lining the far wall. Closer to the feeble lavender firelight, the hairpin gleamed with a royal blue tint. "See that?" Luca softly asked. "Notice the crest of Guardia engraved on it?" He ran his fingers across the azure surface. "Reminds you of Nadia, doesn't it? Carrying around a sacred blue treasure. It must run in their family."

Crono stared as if in a dream and heard the echo of King Guardia's words. She lost her sapphire pin, an heirloom more precious to her than the gold of a hundred rich kings.

The secret of Leene's prison revealed itself in that moment. For upon the hairpin, pure and unblemished by the sword of time, rested the clear gold insignia of the lion.

"Only a queen would wear something so valuable," Crono whispered.

The young inventor nodded and rose back to his feet. "We're one step closer." He placed the hairpin in his jacket pocket and glanced once more around the seemingly empty cathedral. "Evil forces hold Queen Leene captive here. But something else bothers me."

Crono stared at his friend. "What's wrong?"

Luca's dark blue eyes narrowed. "We're not alone in this room. Something watches us."

Suddenly, as if Luca's words angered the cathedral, a gust of wind rushed through in a fierce sweep and extinguished the candles. The cathedral's light shattered into pitch black at the same moment Luca drew a gun from his belt and rapidly shot the creature he knew watched them from the shadows. Even with impaired vision, Luca shot the dark creature repeatedly and accurately. A loud terrifying shriek blared through the chamber as Luca fired at the squealing demon. The sharp-witted inventor pulled free a peculiar black stick which he struck against the stone wall, and a huge flare of brilliant white light lit up the floor and walls in a beautiful starburst that filled the entire cathedral. "The light beckons you, creature of filth!" Luca shouted as he fired once again and reloaded his gun. His face appeared ashen and grim in the flickering light. "Come and answer!"

The flare, one of Luca's inventions, provided the two boys with enough light to catch sight of a black demon slinking its way to the other side of the church. It crawled along the walls like a spider but squealed like a pig as it disappeared into the dark. Crono and Luca stood back to back and peered around as they searched for the hidden figure they knew would pounce from anywhere.

"Good eyes, Luca," Crono said as he held up his sword. "Stay focused. Don't give in to fear."

Luca grinned. "Fear? Who's packin' the guns here?"

All at once, four patches of blue fire flared at the front of the church. Eight devil eyes gleamed as brightly and ominously as the wicked azure flames in which they appeared. Crono and Luca watched in horror as four large demons stepped out of the blaze. They stood upright like humans but boasted pale orange skin and pallid, green, fishlike hands ending in crimson fingernails seemingly sharp enough to rend stone. Each twisted creature, a hideous deformity of nature, of bird, human, and fish, with demonic energies siphoned into the suffering heart within, glared at them. The black hand of Magus had molded the demons into lower bodies of serpents and upper bodies of the chapel maidens Magus must have murdered when he took command of the church. The young women's eyes faintly flashed in a silent plea for help, but underneath their human essence glimmered dark bestial madness. Their fangs and claws shone in the azure light like the razor edges of an orc's foul teeth.

"Ugh," Luca gasped after inspecting the creatures. "What are those things?"

"Magus did this to them," Crono whispered in horror. "Once they were human."

One of the creatures opened its mouth and spoke like a snake. "We are the Naga-ettes," the foremost creature hissed with traces of its female voice still evident. It writhed and twitched as if possessed while it spoke. "You pass uninvited into the sanctuary of our Lord." The wretched and spindly creatures began slithering across the front of the cathedral. "You who fail to heed our warnings," she said and pointed at Crono, "diseased by hope, must be cleansed. Dare you trek further into the domain of the Dark Lord, mortal beings of Guardia? None who pass shall turn back alive! Not with the knowledge you carry. Your lives cannot be spared."

"That cold-blooded devil!" Crono yelled. Magus had bent the chapel maidens into the very demons they had prayed against. "What have you done with the queen?" Crono's fierce emerald eyes pierced into theirs.

One Naga-ette hissed at him. "Placed beyond your reach now, human. Her suffering fills our hearts with joy. Our blood lust shall not slake until light no longer shines in the skies of Guardia. Black heavens reign forever in the name of Magus! We shall cast you and your friend into the ground! You cannot win, children. We condemn you to death!"

"Prove it!" Crono challenged, lifted his sword and pointed it at the leader. "Prove your words, vile snake! I stand before you as a messenger for all people! This war belongs to us! Time you slithered back to hell!"

The Naga-ette pointed her crooked-boned hand as she writhed closer to Crono, and the other three joined her. They appeared as famished vipers about to feast upon a helpless rat. "The world belongs to Magus! We shall reign over this land in unholy fire, and your dreams shall fall like glass to stone. Nothing more than a child in your heart, foolish mortal! Not even the sacred blade stood against the power of Magus. Recall the fate of the knight Cyrus. Mark my words, human! For they shall be the last you ever hear."

Then all four of the demons sprang out like uncoiling angered serpents as their shrieks rent the silence, and all eight claws descended on Crono Zenan and Luca Devir.


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter X—The Fairytale Hero

Crono Zenan fearlessly brought up his blade and charged into the Naga-ettes with an intensity that made even Luca cringe. Crono sprang above the edge of the benches and sent pictures and holy relics of the cathedral crashing down into the midst of the demons. Wary of the red-haired youth swinging his sword in a brilliant wide arc of silver light, the creatures of the dark fell back and hatefully slunk away. Luca sprang to action then, guarded Crono and blasted the demons back with his guns. His leather jacket wildly waved in the gunfire. Turned aside by the bullets, a Naga-ette shrieked in pain as Luca launched a strange dart that struck her in the chest and knocked her to the ground in a heave of dust.

"Poison as vile as your words, demon!" Luca roared at the Naga-ette. He reloaded his toxic darts with a determined face in the flickering light of his flare. Terrified of these strange weapons, the other Naga-ettes shied away. Luca fired another wave of bullets at the Naga-ette to his right, but it dodged quickly and his shots ricocheted off one of the stone pillars bordering the sanctuary. The remaining creatures split up and formed a rigid ring around the two boys. Crono and Luca stood back to back as the demons closed in around them. The Naga-ettes hesitated, though, as their pale eyes fixed on Luca's guns. Then they suddenly sought refuge in their protective blue flames, and summoned the fire to their foul bodies. Their hateful eyes burned into the soul as they fixed on Crono and Luca.

"You arrive too late, rescuers of the queen! Only demise waits for those who defy Magus!"

"Go back to hell, you monster!" Crono furiously shouted as he fearlessly lunged into the flames and cut open the demon's stomach in mid-stride. But the creature tripped him and pinned him to the ground. Her venomous fangs longingly dripped for his blood, and her eyes lusted after his neck as her clawed hand reached out to slice his throat. Crono violently struggled as his ironbound muscles lashed out with the fury of a storm. The Naga-ette winced as the impossibly strong youth crushed the bones of her hand with his powerful grip. He twisted her arm away, grabbed hold of his sword, and cut into the demon's serpent torso. Luca risked turning around to help his pinned friend, and momentarily ignored the others charging after him. He fired bullets into the Naga-ette attacking Crono, but even bullets did little to harm the enraged monstrosity, and Luca had run out of poison darts. Before he could reload, he felt a sudden weight flatten him to the ground. Two of the scaled creatures attacked and slashed into his face with their clawed fingers.

Crono listened to Luca's pained screams and something in Luca's voice surged like living power into Crono's limbs. In savage disregard for his own life, he violently smashed his forehead into the face of the Naga-ette and stunned the beast. Crono's emerald eyes gleamed in venomous determination. His face streaked by ash and blood, he felt no pain as the demon's claws tore into his flesh. He separated himself from everything but the need to grab his sword and unite all his force into one lethal strike. He thrust the blade upward through the creature's heart. The demon painfully shrieked as green slosh poured out and oozed over Crono. Entirely spent then, she hissed before falling to the cathedral floor in death.

Pushing the carcass away, Crono rose to his feet and charged in to help Luca. But suddenly, one of the two remaining demons pounced lightning fast. Though half of the demon group died trying to take down Crono, the third maddened creature hissed in menacing determination as its hooked razor claws slashed into his arm, and the fourth Naga-ette ripped into the grounded Luca.

"Let us see you fight without a sword, mortal!" the Naga-ette shrieked, snatched away Crono's weapon and tossed it across the room.

By this time, Luca had lodged five bloody darts into the demon's face, with her skin almost in tatters from the persistent gunfire. Luca took hold of the creature's throat, shoved the gun into her mouth and fired his remaining bullets. Slippery green blood splattered most of Luca's clothes. Unable to reload, Luca grabbed hold of the cross of his necklace and jabbed its piercing silver tip into the creature's eye. "The power of Christ compels you!" he screamed, then scrounged around in his pack for a screwdriver to stab it into the demon's remaining eye. The now blind demon fell back in agony. Luca brought up his knee and smashed it into the creature's face to finish her off.

Blood rushed from Crono's slashed arm with alarming speed and leaked from countless cuts across his face and arms. Gashes pained his chest as the creature continued attacking him. But for Crono, he felt no pain, only numbness. He fought like an unfeeling weapon, bladeless, and proved even without a weapon he remained a deadly unstoppable tank refusing defeat. Thoughts of Nadia's doom offered him all the strength he needed. He kicked and punched the creature with every bit of his failing strength, matched his fists and might against the demon's claws, and cast her back. He boxed without relent, then fell and lost consciousness. He lasted just long enough for Luca to come in and finish the fight.

Black hair waving wildly, Luca fired lightning-fast bullets capable of splitting the sea, and blasted the demon until she could take no more. The claws rooted in Crono's chest slowly loosened as the last Naga-ette slumped to the floor and stopped twitching.

Empowered by adrenaline, Luca hoisted the creature off of Crono and dragged his friend over to a clear space behind a pew. He let Crono rest in the hushed solitude of the great dark sanctuary. They lounged in the silence, and didn't know if they slept or not. But Luca stirred first as he slowly reached into his backpack for two tonics. He brought the glass vials close to his friend's face.

"Here, Crono, drink this. It will ease your pain." Luca winced as he surveyed the critical wounds marking Crono. His friend's entire face appeared whipped and bloody with cuts and slashes that dully shimmered in crimson streaks. "Crono!" Luca exclaimed, but his friend did not respond. Blood seeped through Crono's chest and clothes, and soaked even his outer robes. With his eyes closed, he seemed to have passed into the next life. "No!" Luca cried out, and slapped Crono's face. "Crono, wake up! Look at me." Slowly Luca brought Crono out of unconsciousness. "You can't go to sleep. Stay with me, buddy." Luca felt Crono's pulse then, and reached into his backpack to pull out a first-aid kit. "I have to take off your shirt and robe. These wounds must be treated."

"I'll be fine," Crono weakly responded, then coughed.

Luca shook his head no. "You won't be fine. Look at yourself. You're going to die if I don't help you. This bleeding has to stop." He began unfastening Crono's robe. "Try to stay awake." Slowly Luca tended Crono's wounds, sutured the ones most severe, lathered his friend in ointment that numbed pain and prevented infection, and helped Crono drink a tonic while he worked. He bandaged a section of Crono's arm where a deep streak of blood marked a wound which would eventually heal into a scar.

"Do you know why doctors use white bandages instead of any other color?" Luca asked as he tried to keep Crono awake. Crono shook his head no. "Because white has no dye in it. If you ever get hurt like this again and I'm not around, be sure to wrap your wound with a white sock. Blood causes dye to leak into a wound. Any other color but white can cause an infection and make the wound worse. You're lucky I brought these medical supplies. Otherwise you might be dead. You're living proof it's better to be lucky than smart." Crono softly laughed, but Luca poked one of his wounds and made him wince. "Don't laugh. It won't help you heal. Save your strength." Crono glanced around the cathedral. "Don't turn your face to the wall, either. I don't want you moving at all."

Crono faintly smiled, but Luca's sharp blue eyes fixed on him. "That includes smiling. Don't do that. You're not allowed to do anything." Crono didn't move after that, but only stared up at his rude, medically qualified friend.

"You'd make a good doctor, Luca," Crono said. "But little kids would fear your name." By now, Crono had finished his tonic. He turned to Luca, who handed him one more. "What about you? You're not having one?"

Luca shook his head no. "I'm okay. I don't really like tonics."

Crono saw through his lie. "You need one, too." He held out the vial to his friend. "Here, Luca, take this. I don't need two."

Luca held up his hand to stop him. "You need it more than I do."

Certainly not wishing for Luca to poke one of his wounds again, Crono drank the last tonic without arguing. After resting an hour or so, the pain faded and Crono's wounds seemed to heal as quickly as they formed. Aside from a dizzying sensation of weariness, Crono felt whole again. He quickly dressed himself and pulled on his tunic and robe.

"Close encounter," Luca ventured after a time. "I thought you had died, Crono. Don't ever scare me like that again."

The candles remained unlit and Luca's flare had already died, so the two friends waited in the dark. Luca still had flares in his backpack, but he would save them for more dire situations. The moon glowed through the windows and provided enough light for them to see.

The silence shattered in a matter of seconds as another blaring shriek rang through the chamber. A huge Naga-ette, larger than the others, appeared in a sweep of blue demonic flame, and lumbered towards the two boys with gleaming red eyes. A mirror of the demons they fought before, it transcended their height twofold. The creature stood ten feet tall with gray rotting hair. The beast slithered over and sounded an earsplitting shriek. Crono and Luca frantically reached for their momentarily discarded and forgotten weapons, though too late, as the creature rushed in with hungering eyes. The two boys backed away but found themselves trapped between the creature and a corner of dried pools of blood and gashed walls.

Suddenly, someone in a green hood and cloak swooped down from the cathedral rafters, and cut off the demon's passage. A brilliant white sword materialized in the air and protected Crono and Luca. The blade shimmered with moonlight as the cloaked figure cast the demon away. So this must be the small spider-like critter that flitted along the ceiling when Crono first entered through the window. Crono and Luca could not make it out as man or woman. Its face remained hidden behind the hood and the growing commotion. The cloaked figure's long beautiful sword rose high from its radiant sheath and gleamed with the light of a second moon that seemed to shelter the boys from evil. The green-clad stranger called out like a powerful knight. "Lower thine guard!" He raised his sword higher. "And thou art allowing the enemy to prevail!"

Then, seemingly impossibly, the little figure jumped twenty feet across the cathedral, leaped the benches and ricocheted off the walls to attack the Naga-ette with astonishing speed and a supernatural hop no ordinary man could perform. Entirely neglecting Crono and Luca, the demon hissed as it met the figure head on with its sharp claws extending for the kill. Its razor-sharp fangs darkly glistened from its snakelike face. The stranger in green proved quicker, countered the creature's assault with a mighty broadsword no simple man of that size could carry, slammed the demon against the far wall, and thrust its broadsword through the demon's torso. Permitting one final shriek from the huge Naga-ette, the attacker sliced off its head, which dropped to the floor in blood and defeat.

The hooded stranger motionlessly stood for a time, then resheathed its sword in a fluid effortless motion. The flowing cape softly fluttered in the moonlight as the swordsman turned to study the boys. Its face remained hidden in the thick shadow of its hood, but Crono thought for just a moment he noticed green skin. He might be Evanheart, Crono thought, but he didn't sound like him, either in the voice or the accent. No woman would speak so deeply. Slowly the stranger pulled off its hood and stood revealed. Then Crono and Luca identified their savior as not even a man.

"What the?" Luca exclaimed in disbelief. "It's a . . . it's a frog!" Indeed, the fellow stood upright like a man, small in stature but with proud eyes so vibrant and yellow they reflected almost gold in the soft moonlight. He possessed the face and smooth green skin of a small river frog. His strut suggested his fighting brilliance, but he stood no more than five feet and appeared not strong at all. Yet this little fellow carried a weapon heavier and more cumbersome than any blade Crono could lift.

Both Crono and Luca realized at once why this strange fellow could hop to such extensive reaches.

Luca inched away from the frog, tightly held to his gun, and prepared to shoot. "Watch out for its sword, Crono! It may flick faster than you think! He's one of the servants of Magus!"

The frog frowned. "My guise doth not incur thy trust." He turned away. "Do then as thou wilt, but I shalt find the Queen of Guardia!" The frog jumped then all the way back up to the rafters and disappeared into the shadows.

Crono sprang out and lifted his arms. "Whoa, wait a minute, buddy! Come back down here!" He waved his hands but received no response. Crono glared at his friend. "Way to go, Luca. You scared him off." But surprisingly, the frog jumped back down and attentively faced Crono. Crono hesitated and regained his senses. "Hey, we're searching for the queen as well!" The frog quietly studied him. "We're friends of hers. We want to help you find her."

Luca uncertainly shook his head. "Crono, don't be so eager to trust the frog! It might be a trap. You're not seriously considering joining this creature, are you? Look at him. He's a mystic! Everyone with half a brain knows mystics hate humans!"

"Luca!" Crono shouted. "If not for your failure of a lifetime, Nadia wouldn't be lost! You're going to do everything in your power to get her back, and that includes helping a frog find Queen Leene!"

Luca glanced at the mystic. "He looks like one of the demons," he responded, although the supple little frog fellow didn't appear frightening at all. "Magus, the master of deception, could easily create a trick that may cost us our lives. I know mystics, Crono. They'd kill a human as soon as look at one."

"Not all mystics are bad!" Crono refuted. "Hundreds of them peacefully coexist with humans! You're just repeating an old stereotype."

Luca glared. "No kidding, an old stereotype! Guess where we landed, genius?"

Crono recalled that mystics lost their hostility towards human beings only after the battle of the Middle Ages, but Crono sensed something different about this one, and the little mystic seemed honored by Crono's words. "You judge him with your eyes and not your heart, Luca. You're a scientist, but you can't always think with your brain. You have to use your heart sometimes, otherwise you lose all sense of true understanding. Notice how he so willingly came to our rescue? I think he deserves more than your too-quick judgment."

"Well, I'm sorry," Luca apologized to the frog. "You just scared me. I could not catalog your species, bouncing off the walls like that, swinging your sword."

The frog nodded with rising hands. "Nay thy heart be troubled, young sir. Tis the vestment by which all men judge me. No fault of thine own, for thou art no enemy of mine."

Luca awkwardly nodded. He could barely understand what the frog said. But from the sound of his voice, Luca assumed the frog had forgiven him. "Umm . . . I didn't catch your name. You have one, don't you?"

The fellow shook his head. "Not the name of my past. But both of ye may call me Frog, my common label." He quietly stared into one of the stained-glass windows of the cathedral. His lantern eyes shimmered with memory, then sadly gazed at his body. "And thus I shalt remain."

"Can we help you find the queen, Frog?" Crono asked.

Frog nodded yes. "Mayhaps a hidden door lurks nigh? Let us search the environs!"

Crono uncertainly paused. Either Frog knew Nadia only mimicked the real queen or he never heard they called off the search. But what reason led a mystic to search the haunted cathedral for the missing human Queen of Guardia? From Crono's and Luca's understanding, all mystics swore fealty to the Dark Lord, so why did Frog hang out here? Crono quietly studied the mystic. The fellow's green skin shimmered emerald in the silver moonlight, and his eyes shone so gold and pure like twin suns. Crono found only trust and honesty mirrored within them. Whatever Frog's reasons, Crono smiled at finding yet another companion. Funny, he had more friends here than in his own time.

Crono and Luca introduced themselves and took Frog's suggestion to begin searching the area. Crono nodded in determination. "We're ready, Frog. I hope we arrive in time." His words rushed away like a broken memory, and the mystery of the cathedral began.


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter XI—In the Land Where Magus Walked

Moonlight streamed down through breaks in the distant heavens as the clocks turned towards midnight. Time seemed to slow, and a dark silence stole both motion and sound from the Land of Guardia. From the ocean drifted a soundless wind that blew through the trees and across this small green valley. In numberless sparks, stars solemnly twinkled in the black skies, and lit the flowers and grass. Tree leaves metallically sparkled and seemed to mirror the blades soon to cross in this time of strife and warfare. Enthroned amidst silence and death, Guardia lay quiet in the moonglow of night. But its dying beauty could not mask the life inside a long-forgotten cathedral as the last three standing heroes searched for the missing queen. Hours had passed since the trio of unlikely companions hunted through the church, and scanned its gloom to uncover hidden passageways or doors that led to shrouded chambers. But they found nothing.

"We're missing something," Luca stated after a time. "I swear, these pictures attempt to tell us something. There's a hidden door in this sanctuary." He paced around the carpet and down the nave as he weighed the situation. "We know Leene came here because we found her hairpin. But what we don't know . . ." Is she alive or dead, Crono wanted to voice. He didn't know if the mission mattered anymore.

"How long have we searched for the door?" asked Crono, who seemed tense from staying there for so long. "Midnight has come and gone."

"I'm not sure," Luca softly answered. "A while."

Crono suspiciously peered at one of the murals of the gods, then followed the line of the god's staff where it pointed down to a section of the stone floor. Immediately Crono flipped over the carpet, and searched for a passageway, but discovered nothing.

"I hope Leene holds up all right." Though Crono tried to sound cheerful, he shook his head in dismay. "I hope we're not too late." His allies didn't respond. They knew the danger they faced and the risk they took. Crono rubbed at his eyes. "You're right, Luca. We're overlooking something obvious. I too sense a door here. Its key hides inside the sanctuary somewhere. I always feel we're drawing closer, but every time it's in reach, it slips away." He punched the bench next to him and released his pent-up rage with a great boom that echoed in the empty church. "But where's the key!" he yelled as he imagined Nadia's hopeless fate. The others said nothing. Crono leaned his head back against the far wall in his sudden frustration. In the grim candlelight, his features appeared ashen. His eyes fell to their strange new companion. Frog should be able to figure this out. But he said, "Maybe we do need Toma. I wish he'd never been wounded."

As if feeling Crono's eyes on his back, Frog softly spoke their names. "Crono Zenan, Luca Devir, come hither." His voice audibly rolled through the great lonely chamber. The two quickly joined their mystic friend. "I hath found the doorway," he stated, and his words hung on the air. "The sealed door beckons. Unseen by eyes it doth remain, but from my heart I sense it close. A glacial wind stirs through the night. Unblocked before stone, the black wind howls even as we stand behind the walls of this sanctuary. Within its touch linger the fears of our queen and her presence in the catacombs. She cries out even now, but none can hear. The black wind leads hither."

Beneath the apse, Crono followed Frog's gaze to an organ at the front of the sanctuary. Two tiers of keys gleamed on the bark-colored instrument which stood tall as Crono's waist and wide as his arm's length. A series of levers and knobs, used to make different sounds, lay situated on the sides.

"I don't sense anything different about it," Luca quietly stated with doubt.

"Indeed, Luca, but the Dark Lord hath mastered deception, hath he not?" Frog directed each word at the unbelieving Luca.

"How can you tell, Frog?" Crono asked. "What's up with the organ?"

Frog's green hand slid across the wood, and his fingers traversed the instrument as he spoke in poetic grace. "The emblem. It hearkens and calls through the night with a tongue shriller than all the cries of demon voices." Frog closed his eyes, and felt for something Crono and Luca could not see. "Concealed be this door, but unclouded doth my eyes remain. Joined by word of mouth, and sealed by magic to the notes and keys of this device, I sense its chime as I would the bell of death. For as now they cannot ring until he who knows the writings of music plays the melody. Only then shalt the door be opened." Frog's hand touched the organ again, and disclosed an unholy mark Crono found familiar. He froze in dark memory, but Frog's words chilled him more as he made out the emblem: A scythe impaled in a skull. Before Crono could respond, Frog spoke his thoughts. "Tis the mark of the Dark Lord Magus." He dared speak the name as his depthless amphibian eyes fixed on Crono. "Thou spoke of a key. Doors art opened by keys, art they not, Crono Zenan?"

Frog faced the organ again, closed his eyes once more, and let his soft words drift on the air like pods of sea life across the surface of water. "Thy heart reveals truth even as thy anger speaks. Our search ends, my friends. Our passage lies through the mystery of this instrument." As his hand touched the symbol of Magus, he seemed to grow angry. "Lies of the wretched, twisted and untrue, evil doth mark the doorway as it does my skin. But if such knowledge to find the key hides, then none shall pass." Frog deliberately faced Luca. "If one of us plays a melody, then mayhaps the door unveil."

"A sheet of music sits right here," Crono pointed out. "Luca, you can play the piano! You've studied music your entire life. Go on, you can do it."

Luca rolled his eyes. "I'm not very fast, so don't expect much."

"Nay thy soul be doubtful, Luca," Frog softly prompted and gazed at the inventor. "I believe in thee."

Luca grinned. "For once, Frog, I actually understand you. Thanks." Luca sat down on the bench in front of the organ and placed his fingers on the keys. Slowly he began playing, but the instrument did not sound normal. Dark and foreboding, a mirror of Frog's warning, the organ echoed with traces of dark magic through the chamber. The melody waved on the air like phantom voices that whispered vile secrets of death as they snaked from the haunting chords of the music.

Rife with cold and fear, it slithered as blood might leak from a cut. Each note Luca played seemed to harmonize the black touch of death.

The music infiltrated their ears and scraped their minds in spellbinding, ensnaring and wicked rhythm. Luca carefully played and tried his best to match the notes on the sheet before him. He seemed transfixed by the feel and the sound. For a moment, Crono thought the music pulled Luca under a spell. Luca's eyes had drained of color, and appeared empty and soulless. But when Luca finished playing, his eyes snapped back to life. As the last of the music faded from the chamber, the cathedral began to rumble from the depths of the earth. Luca grabbed onto the piano stool as the trembler tried to dislodge him from it. Jolted and vibrating, the two standing flailed their arms to find support from the walls and pews. All three tried to maintain their balance and silently watched as a door appeared along the opposite wall. Frog clearly spoke above the rumble as the earthquake assailed the church. "And thus the ground begins to shake. By pain of death and sin of heart, his magic plagues the land. Seldom doth his evil crack the stone of holy ground. Cursed be his darkened touch, just as winter wilts the seasons. Perish now, ye wretched, for light prevails and woe is thou." The rumbling subsided then and the cathedral calmed. "And thus it begins. Unsheathe thy sword, Crono Zenan," he commanded, and seemed oblivious of Luca's weapons. "For greater art they lurking within this black dome of portentous evil."

Crono nodded and withdrew his sword. Luca followed suit and loaded more bullets into his guns. Frog leading, Crono a step behind, and Luca trailing like a shadow, the three allies slowly approached the new portal. Crono's tension grew as the door swung inward. Despite lavender torchlight illuminating the corridor at regular intervals, he felt a deathly cold sweep through the silent hall beyond. Hidden voices whispered louder along the gray stone walls the deeper they walked down the arrow-straight corridor. It spread nearly twenty feet across and hundreds of feet deep. Red carpet adorned its floor just like Guardia Castle. It seemed they reached Hell's gateway as soft chords slithered into Crono's mind.

Had they misheard? Gradually they made out the same melody Luca played on the organ moments earlier. The passageway filled with the chorus of demons that called out praise to Magus, and harmonized with Luca's song.

 _Lavender eyes, they flash as stars in the darkness of night_

 _Our tower of strength, our castle of might_

 _With hair that flows like an ocean wave_

 _He who sent Cyrus to the grave_

 _The words he speaks foretell the end_

 _To only him, our knees will bend_

 _For Magus alone will we adore_

 _For one, for all, forevermore_

 _The Lord of Dark has fate named you_

 _Inside his heart, his magic true_

 _When the sun shines, we shall not fear_

 _When enemies come, he stays near_

 _When the day brightens, we shall not cry_

 _He touches light, and it will die_

 _He is our king, a ring of death's bell_

 _No hero fights that he cannot dispel_

 _He is the master, the keeper of souls_

 _Cast humans down to earthen holes!_

The spine-tingling song sliced into the listeners' ears. The voice of each demon croaked with every vile thread of its wicked existence as the three heroes fearfully strode along the dim corridor. At each step they took, the chorus seemed to recognize the trio's humanity and angrily shouted. It ordered them to turn back, warned of impending death, and claimed that those who pass through shall not return. Crono, Luca, and Frog did not heed the words that crept through the stone. Their eyes fixed on the distant doorway beyond the long corridor. The leaden cast of the halls gleamed in the purple glow of the firelight that blazed from the torches. But fire would not aid what they discovered ahead. Their every hope extinguished as they approached a thing that froze their blood.

Next to the door, in black robes that dangled chains, and a swirling cloak as red as the blood of innocents, stood the Dark Lord himself. He watched them without movement, and his grim face stayed shaped into a vampire grimace. His sunken eyes did not break their stare. He bore a mystical twinkling scythe as silver as starlight. Gripped by terror, Crono's fear transcended everything he had ever faced in this journey. Even Frog hesitated as he studied the one who froze hearts whenever voices spoke his unholy name. However, Luca almost laughed at their remarkable shortsightedness. He stepped forward to rap his knuckles on a Magus not animate, only a statue. The image appeared so real and terrorizing in the faint light, especially from the distance they studied it. Crono hesitated to even approach. He felt those stone eyes pierce his soul, and demand judgment on his life.

"Allow me the honor," Frog valiantly offered as he reached for the knob and opened the massive groaning door. Suddenly a violent cold swept from beyond the chamber, and froze the marrow of their bones. Darkness filled the hall, and the windless black foredoomed their fates as they suddenly knew they were not alone. Something else lurked within. It waited somewhere in the shadows. Luca grabbed hold of another flare, struck it against the wall and tossed it in. Immediately white fire sprang to life and spewed upwards in a fountain of flame that revealed the horrors of the room beyond. Demon eyes glinted, and razor-sharp teeth wickedly glimmered. All at once a series of shrieks and high-pitched laughter shattered the silence. The trap sprung.

"Get back!" Crono warned his friends, and recognized the danger at once. He stepped forward and quickly slammed the door before a series of lethal arrowheads fired. Some cut all the way through the door and lodged there. Angered, the creatures lashed out, flattened the entire door with a crash, then stomped into the dim purple light and reared to full height. The three heroes backed away in disbelief as droves of demons swarmed from beyond the chamber. Imps and orcs bore short swords and knives. Trolls and ogres clutched maces and clubs. Naga-ettes and the remains of dead pieced-together humans marched as fighters for the Dark Lord. Spawned by the black hand of Magus, the demon army advanced with gleaming bared teeth and claws. Drumbeats echoed through the depths of the stone church. Most of the demons wore a confused look as they noticed Frog and listed him a mystic, one of them. They grinned, and a faint trace of familiarity twinkled in their red eyes. Crono wondered then at Luca's implication that Frog would deliberately lead them here to be killed.

But all suspicion fell away as Frog fiercely cast back his long forest-green cloak and pulled free his shining blade. His eyes filled with a menacing gold fire. "Let them come!" Frog shouted as if the odds meant nothing. "Forearm thyself in the name of justice! Let courage take thy heart, friends! Woe to those that pass through that door! Be still under death's shadow and know the unsealed shalt be banished back into the dark!"

The demons rushed forward, and the endless river of mystics charged from the chamber. Imps glared down as they rode snakes taller than men. The rocklike skin and grotesque faces of goblins lay smeared with Magus' emblem. Orcs wielded axes, ogres hauled clubs, and trolls slinked with wet mossy features. The monsters charged at the saviors of Queen Guardia in an overbearing rush.

Frog's heart knew no fear. Just as the trio came within twenty feet of them, the mystic sprang out with several actions at once. He pulled a torch from one of the sconces, and forcefully hurled it at the demon army. Many of the attackers burst into flames, and screamed and cried out as they scattered in all directions. Those not caught in the fires hesitated. But Frog did not slow as he leapt at the biggest creatures in the army and beheaded three ogres in one powerful strike.

Crono charged into the mystic army with courage unchained. He brought up his sword to end these wicked servants of the Dark Lord. The dauntless fire in Crono's eyes matched the lavender flames that burned amid the cathedral hall as he pressed in for the attack. Countless demons fell to the blood-slicked floor even before realizing who killed them. Crono's and Frog's swords swung in all directions. The swordsman and swordfrog stood a stretch of ground for as long as they could. They withdrew to hurl another torch at a group of demons that grew too large and organized to confront, then counterattacked into the chaos.

Luca killed nearly twice as many mystics as the other two. He shot them down just as quickly as they came. His dark leather jacket drew back before his outstretched arms as he effortlessly tread forward and fired bullets one after the other. Lightning-fast, he reloaded as his eyes grimly gleamed in the firelight. Horrified by his weapons, the terrified mystics shied away from Luca as the gunslinger's firing range created a circle of death in which no demon dared to step. Crono and Frog cleared the ranks, and gave Luca the distance to finish off more. But countless others rose up just as quickly to fill the gaps in the onslaught. Driven with madness, every mystic except Frog aimed to crush the life out of the humans. They converged on the invaders in an astonishing rush.

In the glow of the torchlight, the evil mystics appeared as half-human creatures. They sensed Frog as the greatest of the three and, more importantly, the key to the trio's downfall. But his swordplay exceeded all of the demons' skills. The frog knight met each of them without hesitation. As his green cloak wildly waved, he lifted his gleaming blade and unleashed a series of attacks that felled each mystic within reach. He bounced and stuck on the walls as his depthless amphibian eyes flared with fighting brilliance. At one point, an undead warrior charged in and disarmed Frog. But the nimble mystic's sticky tongue shot out and pulled his broadsword back to his hand. Then he severed the attacker's head clean off.

Behind Crono and Frog, Luca relentlessly fought, shot and killed everything. Any evil ones that managed to reach him found a bootprint on their nose and a bullet in their heads. The battle lasted no more than a few minutes. With the last demon down, Crono surveyed the damage and looked astonished by how much death they caused in so short a time. Anxious to fight more, he felt his muscles vibrate. The victors made their way over the carcasses, past fires that still burned in the bodies, and stepped through the broken door from which the demons had emerged. An ominous and frightening sound of breathing echoed within the threshold, and the crinkling of scurrying spiders echoed from beyond the faint light of the open door.

Then came the soft and deceptive voice. "Frog," it whispered from the dark. "It has been so long since last we met. Oh, but please do come in and make yourself at home. Bring your human friends as well. I've just been dying to meet them . . ."

Crono exchanged glances with Frog. "We're with you, Frog."

The mystic smiled at Crono and cautiously stepped further into the room with Crono and Luca right behind. Frog strained his eyes to the shadows until he seemed to sense rather than see a figure that stood several feet away.

It spoke with a hiss, and its slender body slightly hunched amid the moonlight that shone through cracks of the cathedral rooftop. "Oh, dear me, I'm sorry. I forget sometimes not all my guests are accustomed to the dark. You must have a dreadful time seeing anything." The slim figure ambled over to the far side of the room, where sudden light flared as the creature magically lit a candle with his fingernail. His aged face appeared wilted in the dim glow, and his dark eyes thoughtfully regarded them. "Better, yes? I trust you know who I am."

Frog gaped as recognition reflected in his eyes. He stayed speechless for a time. "Tis . . . tis the chancellor! The trusted advisor of the King and Queen of Guardia. But thou couldest not hath kidnapped the queen! Ye were always my friend, an ally of both men and Leene! I knew thee!"

The vile elder laughed. "Oh, I couldn't have? If you cannot believe this outcome, perhaps you should take a closer look at this." He snapped his fingers. "Come here, my dear. Let us show these fools the truth!" As the words left his mouth, a shadow dazedly shuffled from behind a pillar and stepped into the light. Crono thought it plodded similar to a puppet.

Its body seemed controlled by someone or something else, and every step looked weighed by invisible chains. Crono and Luca felt their hearts race as the figure inched into the light. Queen Leene.

"Frog!" she pleaded. "Run, Frog! There's no . . ." Her head yanked back. Something unseen silenced her, bound her words and muffled her cries.

Outraged, Frog pointed his sword at the traitorous devil. Time froze around chancellor and swordsman as everyone in the room seemed to disappear. "Chancellor, nigh time has come to hand over the queen!" he ordered. "Give her back to us, and thy death shalt be eased!"

The old man simply cackled. "Oh, but I think not, froggy! She makes a prize far too valuable to let go. How well the war turns in our favor with her absence. Soon Guardia will fall to the power of Lord Magus, just like your foolish friend Cyrus!"

Immediately Frog glared with flaming menace as something inside him suddenly snapped. He slammed his fist into a nearby desk, which crumpled under the force. "Hold thy tongue, vermin!" Frog screamed in livid rage and raised his sword. "Or I shalt cut it out as ye speak! Thou wouldest betray thy people in the name of evil? Doth thou not see the eastern sky grow dark? How couldest thee betray the Kingdom of Guardia? Shattered dwells the sworn fealty to myself and all free people of the land. All shalt be wreathed in flame! Doth thou not sense only war and bloodshed in the end?"

The chancellor smirked. "Surely you do not think for one instant these pitiful humans represent my people? Your eyes deceive you, Frog, just as the girl they found in the mountains deceived you. Your vision will be cleansed, heroes. I promise you. Here it comes then, the final answer to all the riddles! Look upon me!" His eyes glowed red as he spoke, and his inhuman voice grated. "I am no mortal, you foolish beings! Prepare for your demise!" The chancellor spoke the cryptic and unmistakable black words of Magus. The room steadily grew darker. He shimmered as his human flesh melted from his body. All blood drained from the soulless body as it morphed into its true mystic form. Magic swirled around it as the deception of its physical features faded.

The Yakra loomed twelve feet tall on its hind legs. Its body stood heavily muscled between armored scales that reflected a muddy slime-green in the chamber's faint light. The creature roared as its bestial snout snapped open to reveal razor-sharp fangs convened now to shed the blood of those who dared enter its domain. Its face contorted as twenty spike-tentacles flailed up the sides of its body. Transcending the terror of a Naga-ette screech, its thunderous cry rattled the core of their bones.

"What is that thing?" Crono wondered aloud as he drew his sword.

"Tis the Yakra," Frog sadly warned his friend. "The strength it wields exceeds our own."

Crono did not find that reassuring, especially coming from Frog. But understanding flooded through him so intensely in that moment that he suddenly realized why he had traveled back in time. Everything he faced, every dark creature he conquered throughout his journey across Guardia, it all led him to this fateful moment. Luca slowly removed his backpack and cast it to a corner of the room to lessen his weight for the upcoming fight. Crono's eyes fell to the Queen of Guardia. Her long honey-blonde hair fell back from eyes that glimmered sapphire blue. Her delicate features mirrored Princess Nadia. As a woman in the prime of her life, the queen's beauty took one's breath away. Even the small cuts on her face and the dirt streaking her dress could hardly disguise her grace. Crono and Luca glanced at each other. They knew this final showdown would reconnect time.

Instantly Frog joined Crono's attack. From both sides at once, they struck the monster and jammed their weapons upward through its flesh. Green blood leaked everywhere, and countless bullets repeatedly struck the Yakra in the head. The pellets angered the Yakra and it roared, but with the swordsmen blocking its way it could not reach the black-clothed wielder of the strange shooting objects. With lightning-fast strikes, Crono and Frog slashed asunder every evil limb that thrust towards them as Luca blasted bullets into the Yakra's wicked face. Its many eyes hatefully flared, and the demon quickly abandoned the fight. Instead it inexorably lumbered towards the unguarded queen, who stood yards away from Crono. The three heroes stared in horror as the Yakra roared into the queen's face so forcefully her hair billowed back as if in a strong wind. Hindered by the magic that constricted her body, she could not flee. The spiked tentacles reached for her throat and threatened to strangle her.

"Crono, save her!" Luca screamed in desperation.

"Use thy sword!" Frog advised as he fought off tentacles, and edged toward the other side of the chamber as quickly as he could. "Guide thy blade and block the Yakra from Leene! Ye holdeth the skill, Crono Zenan! Use it!"

The towering demon's razor-sharp tentacles zeroed in on the queen's throat. If it could not defeat the three warriors, it would at least finish off their queen! The Yakra wickedly grinned, but its smile turned to a frown when out of nowhere the boy with fire-red hair landed before it. Crono charged with an array of fierce sword strikes. The demon tried to flip Crono backwards but found this increasingly difficult to do as Crono dodged, blocked, countered, and rolled through every attack the demon could muster. Angered, the Yakra fought with every ounce of willpower it possessed. Its tentacles shot in countless spear thrusts, but none hit Crono as he evaded the demon.

Beneath Crono's attention to the battle, he vaguely wondered, inside the lone backpack, if the history book began to change. Did the past and future rewrite itself across numberless planes of existence and time? Could lives be restored and fates reunited? He questioned if all they sought to change succeeded and Guardia transformed across the centuries to the destiny humans and mystics knew before the doorway to the Middle Ages opened.

Luca repeatedly fired bullets into the Yakra, and blasted the creature back. But these missiles caused little harm. Unexpectedly, the Yakra turned away from Crono. Instead, one of its huge iron-spiked tentacles smashed into Frog and sliced him in a dozen places. Frog slammed into the side of a wall and fell to the floor in dust and defeat, and did not move. The two boys froze and stared in disbelief as Frog dropped his sword to the stone floor and closed his eyes. Before Luca could rush to Frog's side, the Yakra dodged to intercept him. Soon the pain of those bullets would end! The Yakra charged. Then Luca relentlessly shot his guns and slowed the demon but did not stop it. The maddened Yakra converged on Luca and the fury of their own battle ensued.

"Queen Leene, are you all right?" Crono asked. He had leapt over to her on the far side of the chamber. Distant from the battle taking place between the Yakra and Luca, he helped her to stand. Her face hid in the shadow of her long hair, but Crono studied her as the queen brushed the locks from her face. The queen quietly regarded Crono, and her deep blue eyes riddled with wonder. He appeared familiar to her. Crono stared when her eyes found his, and reflected once more on the day he met Princess Nadia, under the very bell named after this queen.

"You look much like a friend of mine," Crono admitted. He saw that her slim hands had been bound so tightly with rope that purple bruises marked her wrists. After being held captive for so many days, she had trouble standing on her own. "Stay still, your majesty," Crono suggested as he severed the binding. "You're free now. Let's get you home." He then looked around for a way out.

The Queen of Guardia glanced at the hardy youth, and stared anew at his ashen blood-streaked face in the moonlight. Her eyes intensified as her voice became barely a whisper. "You're the Trigger . . ."

Crono turned back to face her. "The what?"

Her eyes found his. "You are not from this land. You came from a blue light across the mountain."

Crono gazed at her in wonder. "How do you know that?"

Queen Leene did not move. "Because you're the one from my dreams." Crono could not find the words to speak as she stepped forward. "I have seen you, child. You stride across a bridge of stone, and hold a sword that glows blue when the moon no longer shines. You will change what is to be, bring life to death, and alter fate." Crono's haunted eyes fixed on the queen, but she continued. "I have seen you walk through cold emptiness where nothing lives. I saw the dawn rise from a sword that shines only when your hand touches it." Her voice distantly echoed, and her eyes swirled like a blue pool that drew him in. "Shadows will ever haunt your footsteps. I have seen you die and turn death itself backwards even when its hand laid claim to your soul. The vision spoke of no name, so I gave one: The Chrono Trigger. But though I have seen your face so many times, I have always wondered, who are you?"

"Follow me," Crono said and led her by the arm away from the terrible place. He could not explain how true her words rang in his ears, and how important the men of this war found her. If she could glimpse the future, perhaps that alone would lead the knights to victory.

The cathedral shook so violently it seemed to rock the entire Land of Guardia. Chunks of the ceiling toppled in huge collisions to the floor, and bounced off walls in various directions. The Yakra vehemently roared as he witnessed the queen's escape. He smashed everything in sight with the furious intent of destroying the cathedral and everyone in it. Pillars in the great sanctuary slid to the ground, and loudly clamored in a pandemonium that seemed to tremble through the heart of the world.

Crono safely guided the queen and kept her close as he edged his way through the rubble toward escape.

Suddenly a huge section of the ceiling broke apart, and the stone spiraled down towards the queen as if death itself refused to let her leave the chamber alive.

"No!" Luca screamed as he saw the queen's doom. But just as the stone crashed down, Crono shoved the queen aside and placed himself in the boulder's pathway. The entirety of its weight plummeted onto his back and buried him alive.

The burning fire of a thousand suns erupted from Luca as he watched his best friend perish. "You son of a bitch!" Luca screamed, and his voice shook the air. He kept the demon at bay with blazing guns that seemed to match his fighting fury. "You killed my best friend, you bastard!"

Queen Leene cupped her hands to her face. Tears trickled down as she watched sections of the roof pile up and entomb Crono. She ran to him and tried to pull the rocks from his motionless form, but they proved too heavy. She clutched the hand that edged out from the chunks and wept as if death had taken her own son. Silently she prayed. "No. You can't be dead," she softly pleaded, and brushed the debris from Crono's exposed face. "Wake up, please. Don't let it end like this. Rise and save us! Fight, Chrono Trigger. You must live." She spoke Crono's father's last words and a miracle occurred. Crono slowly opened his eyes and looked around. When he realized where he lay, he blasted the stones from his body and rose back to his feet. The Queen of Guardia softly gasped. "I won't die tonight, Leene," Crono promised. "You must survive. Let's get you to safety. Follow me." With astonishing strength and unbreakable determination, Crono hunched over in pain and limped as he led the queen on through the doomed cathedral. They made their way across the rubble, and stumbled over the breaking pillars toward the chamber door through which they had entered.

Distracted by the relief of seeing his friend alive, Luca fell back against the enraged Yakra. But one of its spiked tentacles struck him with the cold sting of a thousand needles, and sent him into darkness. The Yakra bent down to finish off Luca, then noticed Queen Leene at the door.

"Crono!" the Yakra hissed, and mimicked the name the others called him. The youth turned to face the demon and noted in disbelief that Luca lay clutched in one of the Yakra's deadly tentacles. He appeared unconscious. The demon studied Crono for a time as if wondering how the boy could possibly stand after the blow he suffered. Crono didn't move an inch as he gazed at Luca's motionless form. "If the queen leaves this room, I shall kill your friend faster than you can blink! Do not doubt my words! I have every intention of letting this pathetic fool live so long as you do as I say!"

Crono hesitated and struggled with the most difficult choice of his life.

"If you or the queen takes another step towards that door, I will kill your friend!"

Unable to decide when victory seemed so close, Crono froze. He looked to Frog for aid, but the little mystic could not fight or even stand as he grimly watched the whole situation. He looked barely conscious, and remained helpless to do anything to save the queen he swore to protect. In Frog's mind, Luca held second priority to Queen Leene, but Crono knew even if he did exactly as the Yakra instructed, the demon would still kill them both. Crono pondered what Luca would want him to do.

"Speak your demands, Yakra," Crono shouted across the room. "You and I both know we can't give them up. We stand on even ground." Several yards away, the Yakra wickedly smiled. Crono knew he would be unable to reach Luca before the demon killed him. If Crono possessed Frog's skills, he could hop the distance and cut the Yakra down, but no man could. A human could do only so much against a mystic.

"You will release the queen to me, and I will release your friend to you," the Yakra hissed. Crono remained uncertain. Leene meant little to him compared to Luca, his eternal friend until death do part. But they worked so hard to save the Queen of Guardia. She represented the future of their homeland and the entire heart of their mission. Now the choice fell to Crono. Sacrifice his best friend or sacrifice innocent lives down the course of four hundred years. Simple yet so difficult. Crono noticed the Yakra fidget and suspected he ran out of patience. The demon would kill Luca no matter what Crono did. Unless . . .

"Wait!" Crono shouted and drew the Yakra's gaze. "Take me instead."

The demon hesitated. "You? You would surrender your life to me in his place?"

Crono stepped forward, laid down his sword, and fell to his knees with his arms out. "Let Luca go, Yakra. He's my best friend. Take my life instead."

The demon maniacally cackled. "Oh, this is rich! You offer me your life freely! The one last fighter who stands a chance at defeating me? You seem more a fool than you look, boy!"

"Crono, don't!" Leene yelled from the threshold.

"It's something a creature like you would never understand," Crono said. "I'd rather die in his place than watch you murder him. Take me." The timing could not have been more perfect. Just as Crono made the decision, Luca opened a single eye, and winked at his friend. The little genius, Crono thought in disbelief. Not even unconscious! Tricking the Yakra! But for what? What did he want me to do?

"Then you've made your choice, boy!" the demon darkly screeched. "Lay yourself before my feet, and I will spare this fool! Hurry now! Come to me and . . ." But he never finished the sentence. Luca suddenly sprang to action. He pulled a flare from his pocket, struck it against the near wall, and stabbed the burning invention into the demon's sensitive eyes. He drew his guns so quickly they seemed to materialize in his hands and he repeatedly shot the demon in the face until the Yakra dropped Luca to the floor. The creature's screech wavered between agony and rage. Now realizing what to do and no longer worried about losing Luca, Crono waved Queen Leene down the halls to safety, and fearlessly charged into the Yakra.

But the Yakra stood ready for Crono, and launched one of its tentacles double-quick at the youth. It relentlessly wrapped around Crono's neck, cut into his skin, and choked the life out of him.

Crono gritted his teeth and tried to repress the deadly squeeze. He pulled and struggled with the last of his strength, but the demon ensnared his doomed victim. The last hope for Crono appeared in the shine of his sword. The blade sparkled in the silver light of the stars and moon that spilled down from the broken cathedral roof. Crono narrowed his eyes in anger as he heard the Yakra cackling. Slowly, Crono pulled free his sword. His jaw tightened as he held the Yakra's clench at bay with his spare arm, and the other gripped his blade. With his right arm, he fiercely threw the sword across the distance that separated him from the monster, and the blade struck home. It whirled through the air and sunk deeply into the very center of the Yakra's black heart. The Yakra elicited one final screech, during which Crono found a few precious moments to breathe, and then the demon crashed to the floor in death. A pool of the Yakra's green blood formed under Crono's fallen sword. Weary and dizzy, Crono dropped to the ground himself, and breathed in frantic gulps. Then he rose slowly, but leaned over and gripped his midsection. He went to Luca and helped him stand, then impulsively hugged him, both for their victory and for their lives. Crono brushed the blood off his clothes. "Go help Frog. See if he's okay. You're the medical guy here."

The inventor nodded and headed over to the corner of the room where his backpack sat, pulled out a few supplies, and approached their fallen friend. Crono thought Frog would be all right. He looked shaken by the blow he suffered, but he would heal over time. Crono froze suddenly at the notion of time. He crossed the room and from Luca's backpack slowly pulled out the history book and skimmed its pages. What he saw moved his heart.

"Yes!" Crono cried. Tears formed in his eyes as he watched the text begin to change. Though he could not read the words, he knew that he and Luca had succeeded. The old pictures faded and new ones transformed into the legacy of Guardia. Its former glory had restored. A picture of Leene's beautiful bell appeared. It hung gold in the Town Square, rang forth the arrival of dawn, and captivated the hearts of those who heard the song of Queen Leene. With the battle ended, they had renewed history.


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter XII—Back Home

Passing through the halls to the door that had denied them entrance, the weary and injured Crono Zenan and Luca Devir carried Frog and Queen Leene from the devastation of the haunted cathedral. Luca bore Frog, and Crono the queen until they reached the everglades. They made their way in the light from Luca's flare, and sometimes stopped to lift stones out of their way as they escaped the church. With the last of his failing strength, Crono kicked open the sealed doors, placed the queen in a thick flowerbed in the everglades only yards away from the building doors, and then fell to earth and drifted into sleep. Crono, Luca, the queen and Frog deeply slept after their escape from the Yakra and the ruined sanctuary.

At dawn, Crono and Luca stood several yards from the cathedral doors on a windy knoll that overlooked the southern valleys, which descended southward to the ocean shores. They watched the sun rise over the edge of the world to warm the land below. Sunlight hung between the earth and heavens in a brilliant sphere that shone across the ocean surface and the widespread trees and streams that surrounded the everglades. The night shadows disappeared with the promise that the evil of Lord Magus and his servants melted away. Miles from the everglades, the sea stretched away forever, and the morning glow shone strongest above the once lightless Bridge of Zenan. The black mist over the northern isles faded, timelines reconnected, and the scourging presence of the Yakra finally ended.

Crono stared down at his dusky hand that still clutched his sword. His eyes remained distant in the memory of the previous night's struggle. As wind soundlessly weaved across Guardia, the valley wetly glistened in the shadows. A silver halo of faint moonlight hung low across Kelvenforge, where stars twinkled on the other side of dawn. Suddenly a flock of seagulls flittered into the west. As Crono followed their flight, he noticed in the clouds the face of Princess Nadia. Like the rising dawn, she would resurrect. The golden sun trailed down her head as if hair. The backdrop of the azure sky mirrored her eyes, and the dying gloom reminded Crono of the peace Nadia brought him during the times they had shared.

Convinced of everything's rightness, Luca smiled at Crono. "It's done, Crono," Luca said softly. "Time has been restored to its original chain, and I'm sure the links of that chain will pull through on their own. We did what we must, and the timelines have reconnected. Let's go home."

Crono wearily turned to face Luca. "I guess that means the royal family's been preserved. Hopefully our government won't suck as much in the future."

Luca laughed. "Ah, the joys of politics, indeed. I doubt the life-altering inception of time travel will change it. Everything will continue as before. We will wake every morning by the bell and the guards will behave as annoyingly as ever." The inventor stared across the sea, and his eyes narrowed. "Except the story of the queen's rescue, everything will stay the same."

Crono studied him in wonder. "Wait, if that's true, will the history book mention us? I hope any drawings of you and me don't appear there, because I don't know how to explain that to my mom, or anyone else who may come across them."

"No names, Crono," Luca said. "Only a story. There's nothing to worry about."

Crono sighed in relief. "That's good."

"We're wise to ask those questions," Luca stated. "Overlooking anything might uncover our whole encounter with time travel and possibly jeopardize lives. Let's never recite this tale again, even to Fritz. We'll hold that promise as a family keepsake between Zenan and Devir."

"Can you imagine what the king would do if he found out about the Telepod?" Crono replied. "The soldiers and imperial public would swarm all over you!"

Luca dismissively shrugged. "They won't find out. If they ever do, it won't do them any good. As soon as we arrive in 1000 A.D., I'm destroying it. With the machine dismantled, I have a hunch the gates will disappear forever." Luca patted Crono on the shoulder. "I hope you haven't found another best friend here, because once we get back to the mountains, we will never see this place again."

Crono clutched Luca's hand. "Never."

Silent and peaceful, Queen Leene rested on a thick matted flowerbed with patches of soft grass that ringed her resting place.

After Crono and Luca washed the dried blood from their hands and faces in a small stream in the everglade, Frog slowly approached Crono and Luca. His wounds had been bandaged with Luca's supplies, and his green cloak fluttered in the wind. "A golden sun rises in supplant of leaden skies. Wherefore doth the black heaven drift when gold light shines from the east? Not oft mine eyes beheld unclouded skies. Forsooth the coming dawns glow true. Too long they dwelt in the shadows. The light heralds promise of the end of Magus' hold on this land! His dark ambitions fade. Thou hath fought well, both of thee. The struggles of Queen Guardia hath bygone, but fear gnaws my courage, friends. For anon be the battle of freedom and longevity. Death I dread not, but beyond nigh the summit of the mountain that bears the tomb of my dearest friend, Magus comes for us. The land wilts under his touch as skin might perish in the burn of coal. Despite the dawn triumphant, seldom doth pace wither in the revamping of his evil heart. His voice ever calls on the black wind as a prophecy of doom across the Land of Guardia."

Crono peered at their mystic friend. "Why still so glum, Frog? I don't understand. You should be happy! We've beaten Magus! We've secured the safety of the queen and the bridge will be rebuilt. You know what that means, right? More men will march from the south to aid us!" He stopped short and sensed he may have said too much about the future. "Or does something else trouble you? Why do you worry?"

Frog did not look into Crono's eyes. His gaze stayed lost between the heavens and earth. "Whereas my fear wane erstwhile for so pithy a time, Lord Magus survives. Nay a sense of calm shalt prevail me whilst the Dark Lord breathes. For doth he still contrive to destroy us. Cessation of strife reigns not till he falls defeated. Order dies in the harmony upon nature lest he survive. Always Magus kills! Drifting careless and unchallenged between land and village, through night till dawn, in rain and darkness, he doth not feel the need to sleep! None that dwell the land hath the strength to overcome him. When he revealeth the black fire of his wicked power, our end shalt come anon!"

Crono glanced over at Luca. He yearned to tell Frog they came from the future, and that they held a history book that stated Magus would not win the war. But the inventor shook his head no. Luca knew they could not reveal their secret. They would have to let Frog discover the truth in the natural course of time. Frog peered at Crono with deep gold pools in which the red-haired youth noticed Frog's somber emotions.

"I weep for them, Crono Zenan. Afeard my heart remains. For what sacrifice perchance abdicate us in these coming days? Verily, the cloud of risk darkly swirls above both soldier and fate. Nay doth a hero live to contend with Magus, not since the passing of the last."

Crono placed a firm hand on Frog's shoulder. "Don't worry, Frog. Humans will win the war against the mystic monsters. You'll see one day when those demons get . . ." Crono froze. He didn't mean to include Frog in that group.

But Frog had accustomed to his legacy, and took no offense by Crono's words as he shook his head. "Nay, Crono. Thine eyes hath not seen his unholy wickedness, nor would I wish for thee to stand in his presence. But I hath, my friend. I feel it now as an undying pain that mends not in the boundaries of time. Ever will he remaineth the archfiend of my existence, but he tarries not in mindless audacity to assume dominion over all. For his sinful magic transcends the greatest knights of the land. Blessed be the life of they who survive what pestilent fate with which we art laden. Once before, I saw his face. Into his eyes hath I glimpsed power against which no mortal man possibly standeth. Seed from the underworld and the embodiment of unrighteousness, he acteth as the marauder of life. He kills whomever he chooses with nary a soul born with the strength to fight him. Resembling death. Thou might seek to flee before his scythe and hooded face. Ye may triest to bypass the fate he deems when his gaze sets upon thee. But the moment his fire touches thy skin, thou shalt be consumed by darkness."

Crono's mind wandered as he took in Frog's words. "I'm not exactly certain what you said just now, Frog, but it sounded cool." Frog did not reply and Crono sighed. "Look, Magus can't be that strong, can he? I mean, someone has to exist who can beat him. We conquered the Yakra, Frog! We can beat Magus, too!"

But Frog did not glance at Crono. Instead he stared across the ocean. "Nay, Crono Zenan. Tis the hope and belief of many. All in legend hath failed against Magus. Even the sacred blade shattered. With three partisans by his side, he shalt live beyond defeat."

Crono glanced at Luca, but even he shrugged. "Three partisans? You mean great followers? I thought Magus ruled alone. I didn't know he had followers like that."

"Nay had I until I encountered each long ago," Frog admitted. "Verily, three henchmen tread under his shadow. Two of which art human themselves. Unequaled in his magic they remaineth, but powerful disciples nonetheless. They art worthy against any that oppose the Dark Lord."

Wonder reflected in Crono's eyes. He never heard Magus stood in union with three other similar magic users. Even the history book failed to specify.

"So two of them are human?" Crono asked. "Do you know their names? Where did they come from?"

Frog glanced to the sky. "One a woman, she allures as though the light of an angel. Her voice enchants with the melody of a thousand singing voices. Long ago, when rainfall cloaked the night and storms woke the dead, I saw her face. Nay my eyes to see beauty in a woman so wicked. Afeard remaineth all those that beheld her. She wieldeth seductive charm over men. Her witchcraft dissuades the heart and appeals the soul in ways that transcend female propriety."

Luca slowly leaned forward and whispered to Crono. "I believe he politely called her a magical tramp."

"And in the gathering dark," Frog softly continued, "when wills shatter in the wake of her charm, those who fall under her spell turn to stone. A vampire she became, my friend, when Magus granted her his black gift. The lifeblood of humanity be the source of her magic. This foul enticement fuels her cruelty and malice. I hath seen it done, Crono Zenan. Thou must never fall under her spell. When the sorceress kisses thy lips, thy blood drains and thou shalt be turned to stone. Her name is Flea.

"Second be a legendary swordsman named Slash. This deathly freelance assassin remains as worthy as any with the blade, and as swift and unyielding as the Dark Lord Magus. An adversary of unequaled swordplay, he darkly mirrors Lord Evanheart. When Slash hunts, thou merely beholdeth his shadow, never his face. Nay, he remaineth nearly invisible to eyes when he draws up his cloak. Barren be my knowledge, but my blade once crossed his, and his hands fight both unmercifully and unrelenting. That dawn ensued long ago, and I only a young tadpole when the genesis of such contention took form. Bereft of understanding, I fear Slash's development.

"The third and most abhorrent disciple of all consisteth of a supernatural wielder of black magic. This mystic adorns robes that gleam as moonlight." Frog pointed to his own chest. "Black skull embellished here. Ye will one day know his treachery should thee ere cross his path. A forest imp called Ozzie, but he stands greater than the rest, and as big as thyself, Crono. He lives as king of all mystics and lord of the fiends. Verily, 'twas this mystic who served as Magus' caretaker as a child. He embodies the author of his heart and the poison of his mind. He taught the boy to kill and to hate the humans Ozzie so detests. Ozzie acts as the catalyst of Magus' dark heart, and shepherded him in ways a parent would a child, but only to shatter all love Magus once held as a child somewhere within. The burial of truth and entombment of salvation started from Ozzie's desire to teach the gifted child black magic when he adopted Magus."

Frog noticed the confusion in Crono's face, and slowly nodded. "Yea, Magus be a mortal man, and, quite remarkably, born with magic. Tis an odd fate, for none bear innate magic except mystics. But from flesh to soul, Magus is mortal yet unlike any other I hath ere encountered." Frog balled his fists in helpless sadness. "Had Magus not been found that day by Ozzie, had he yet remained preserved from bitter words and the cruel path of hate, I feel Magus would never act as now. Nay would he hath grown to manhood with Ozzie's venomous lies that stir so keenly in his blood. Ill-fated that young Magus should live with such rankled spite and execration of all living things. Nay that his gift of magic should be twisted to serve the wretched. The despise Magus felt merely express the seeds of a lament never put to rest, and a fire lain against his heart. But the King of Mystics fueled that inner flame, and stoked the spark of Magus' dark gift until it eventually flared and consumed the young child's heart. And now, as a man, Magus drives on with bloodlust, and wields power to rule both human and mystic alike." Frog's eyes filled with anger, then fell to the earth. "Perchance that I be granted one wish, never would I hesitate to go back in time and stop that terrible moment from happening. Could the course of time turn backwards, and should my dreams live out to change the folly of truth, I would destroy, even at the cost of my own life, any chance Ozzie had at finding Magus on that day, in those woods alone. For without the power of Magus, Ozzie claims nothing."

A gentle wind blew from the sea, and rustled Crono's hair as he realized the irony of Frog's words. A time traveler stood beside him.

"So then where did Magus come from?" Crono asked. "Who are his parents? How can a human possess magic?"

For the first time since they started this conversation, Frog smiled. "Verily, that mystery surrounds and bewilders us all. Nay hath one the faintest idea where the Dark Lord first appeared. Years ago, Ozzie found him as a child somewhere in Zaida Forest. From there, Ozzie took Magus to the Black Fortress. Even at seven years of age Magus proved greater than the King of Mystics, who had practiced magic all his life. And behind a wall of stone and lies that consumed the mind, the Dark Lord became unleashed upon the World of Men." Frog took a deep breath, and calmed his nerves. "A king only in his mind, Ozzie behaveth nothing more than a coward, Crono. He beareth only a few spells, indeed, but nothing which would ever compare to how he hath prepared Magus throughout the course of his life. Magus incorporates the belief rooted in the heart of every mystic that this world belongeth to them. Worshipped as a god and feared even as a child, Magus consists of the head of the beast that contriveth to destroy us all. If we cut off that wretched head, the rest of the body shalt fall to ruin with it! But such a task remaineth yet beyond any man."

Frog's eyes drifted out to the flowing sea before falling back to rest on Crono. "Their attack will shake the stones of Kelvenforge. Seas will bend before the awakening evil that hails from the mountain south. Blood riseth highest where all hopes so keenly lie on this brink of destruction. And if the people of Guardia do not stand united against them, nay the future exist." He glanced back out to the ocean. "Little time remaineth as I speak, though I daresay even the flow of time worketh against us. It burns my thoughts to suffer the knowledge Magus comes for thee, Crono and Luca. But he will appear for vengeance upon the hope thou hath brought to us in our time of need. We hath salvaged from this rescue the morale that fast fadeth out of men."

"We will defeat him," Crono stated, and pointed back to the cathedral. "Magus reigns over no one, Frog, and he never will because even you know humans still stand and fight on. He causes only grief, but that will fade over the course of centuries." Luca raised his eyebrows at Crono, but Crono ignored him. "Whether good or evil, every man has a story. But that story ends sometime on the road. The same will occur with Magus because he's human, too. You said it yourself."

Frog did not look at Crono, and responded with barely a whisper. "Not even Cyrus could stop him."

Suddenly they heard a sound behind them and turned to look. Several yards away, the entrance to the church opened to expel a man with silver hair who carried a staff and wore green robes. He stepped from the desolate ruins into the faint light. Crono gaped as if discovering a ghost. There stood none other than the chancellor.

"The Yakra!" Crono yelled, and woke the queen from her flowery bed and startled both Frog and Luca. "Get your weapons!" Crono lifted his sword, and prepared to defend the queen against the monster. He dashed a short distance over to Leene and stood between her and the chancellor, then aimed a ferocious glare at the old man, who stared at Crono in wonder. "Remove yourself from here, demon, or I will cut your throat and leave your carcass for the wolves!"

Frog jumped over to Crono. "Stay thy hand, friend! For the man who standeth before thee is the real chancellor! The one we fought in the sanctuary hath perished forever. We art safe."

Crono slowly lowered his sword and gazed at Frog in confusion. "But he's a traitor!"

Frog patted Crono's back. "Thou must calm thyself. This man acteth as much a friend to us as ye do to Sir Luca. Verily, I made this conclusion when I realized he lived. The Yakra had used the disguise of our most trusted elder, the chancellor, in this way to kidnap the queen. 'Twas my belief he betrayed us all, but I misperceived in the chamber. The true chancellor standeth before us."

Crono glanced at Queen Leene, who sat up from the flowerbed. Her blue eyes intensely shone on Crono, and expressed honesty clearer to him than any words. She did not need to speak.

Crono lowered his blade. "What's he doing here now? He didn't escape with us."

The swordfrog reassuringly nodded. "I discovered him shortly after our contention with the Yakra and its demon hordes. He lay locked away in a hidden barrier of magic verily one similar to Leene's. Before sunrise, I sensed others may be trapped, searched for more prisoners, and set him free. Being an agile creature, I escaped the desolation of the church before the chancellor. But he makes no enemy of ours. Nay thy heart be fearful."

"And Leene and I both owe you our lives," the old man stated as he looked at Crono and Luca.

Crono resheathed his sword and knelt. "I'm sorry, elder. I made a mistake."

The cheery old man came forward to extend his hand in friendship and help Crono rise. "A simple misunderstanding, lad. You hold noble intentions in your furtherance to protect our most beloved Queen Leene. How strange it must feel for you to shake hands with the man who acted as your nemesis the night before."

"I can tell you're no demon," Crono stated. "No warmth resides in a devil's smile."

"Alas the oddity of fate!" the old man agreed and raised his staff. "But the new day heralds fortune for our kingdom! Thank you all for your help, but the queen seems exhausted and we must return to the castle."

Crono agreed and also felt anxious himself to finish the mission so he, Nadia and Luca could return home to 1000 A.D. "Yeah, she took us on some wild hunt, but we survived. I myself am dying for a shower." When the group frowned at Crono in confusion, he rolled his eyes and remembered the age. "Uh . . . I'm sure the king awaits his queen's return!" he quickly said and glanced at his amphibian ally. "Frog, you know these lands better than anyone, I think. Will you do us the honor of leading the way?"

Frog bowed low and bade the queen. "Come, thy majesty. I shalt guide thee through the shadows of Darkwood. But let us make haste and chart our path for Guardia Castle! I fear that Lord Guardia suffers worry and fear! Behold, the Lazaren yields before the mist, so let us pray the road heralds fortune! Onward we go, into the deep!" Queen Leene and the old man followed Frog's lead. They treaded out of the everglades with Leene protected between Frog and the chancellor.

Crono glanced at his friend. "Luca, I'm concerned about the war and what Frog said about Magus. I don't know what to think anymore. What will happen when we return to 1000 A.D.? I don't want to go home to a nightmare."

Luca patted his shoulder. "I've double-checked the outcome of the future. I'm telling you, Crono, humans will win the war. Your fear persists because of the beasts and violence you've encountered. Use the process of elimination. This book cannot lie. The pages wouldn't appear in this language if we never won the war."

Crono shook his head in disagreement. "But it's not the outcome of the war that worries me. I know we win, but that doesn't mean you and I never fight in it."

Luca hesitated. "Look, Crono, we did everything we could. It's not like we have to keep bouncing back and forth through time's gate to help everyone with their problems. Our people will come out fine on their own, and you and I won't have to concern ourselves with this or any other war. I know you think otherwise because you recognized yourself in some description in a history book in this time."

"You know about that?" Crono asked and recalled the day of the festival when the attendant showed him a page that described a bridge and a red-haired boy who held a glowing blue sword.

Luca grinned. "You told me last night, remember? Crono, you can't let that simple picture rule your entire destiny! That depiction might have been a false illustration of what we did just now to save the queen. Not to mention everyone in Guardia knows that a red-haired youth defeated the Malordra Witch. That's cause enough for your deed to appear in a history book." He chuckled and placed his arm around his friend. "Nay let us head to the castle, oh ye of little faith. And let's head home."


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter XIII—Black Wind Rising

Far to the south of Guardia, in a castle that rested in the heart of the mountain, the Dark Lord Magus closed his eyes. He stood in the shadows of a fortress where the heads of many warriors and forgotten heroes hung across the parapets. Heads toggled along the castle walls in silent screams as their soulless remains promised death. A crescent moon hung low across the enclosing summit of the Denadoro Mountains. Its ivory scythe seemed to scrape across the starlit fabric of night. Frost marked the cold cheerless morning, and the air felt as glacial as the stone of the great fortress. Although renewed sunlight shone across Guardia this morning, here at the castle of Lord Magus only fire, moonlight and stars lit the darkness. The Black Fortress wetly glimmered in dark chains forged of obsidian, and its spiked towers rose up to steal light from the world.

A black and red sky of storm clouds accompanied the sudden waves of thunder and lightning that served as the heavens over the land where Magus reigned. Fires hotly burned from atop the parapets, and the sparks of crimson lit this sea of gloom and death. Within them hung the charred remains of those foolish enough to venture here. Inside other fires, black and seared human skulls silently burned and stared with hollow eyes. Condemned, the skulls burned and eternally cackled at those who dared pass and who would soon become fuel for the flames. Within the tunnels beyond the keep, giant snakes hissed and whispered the name of their lord, as they would for centuries. Magus . . . Magus . . .

Across the black skyline, lightning streaked red. Thunder roared and echoed in cadence with the sea beyond this lifeless sprawl of land. The tall cursed trees seemed to cry out to escape the world and reach for the warmth of light from a land that knew no sun. A lake blackly stirred amid the forever shadowed land where the Black Fortress loomed. But in this water, mournful souls wailed for release from the consuming depths. The endless weeping did little to strike remorse in a heart blacker than the night. Deathly spirits lingered in these mountains. They silently waited and stayed hushed and hidden from those in the living world. These creatures knew their ruler as Lord Magus, who sat enthroned within a fortress more empty and lifeless than the skulls that eyed its walls for eternity. The castle loomed as darkly and cryptically as the graves which Magus reserved for those who risked passage beyond.

The stars above quietly twinkled in ivory sparkles, but the Dark Lord could paint them any color he wished. He could shift the cold of the air itself, and reverse the direction of the wind. His magic created frost in lands where the sun burned hottest, and darkened terrains where the light shone strongest. Black flames danced in his hands as easily as humans bent their fingers. He could raise the dead from the earth and employ them if the need came. Sunlight never reached this place, though it could if Magus allowed it. In his chamber, four ornate pillars softly shimmered in the light of blue flames that burned from within the floor.

In the silver-blue light, the stone walls gleamed as firelight glittered across their surface in small ripples. The room seemed to wave as though enthroned in the midst of the ocean. Statues lined the walls and recalled the burning parapets outside. Magus only kept fires across the ramparts and in the floor of the castle because his servants could see not in the dark. That included the three servants who waited on him here.

These three waited for Magus to speak, and did not move. Even in the light, their lord hulked tall and sinister. His presence mirrored his castle as he exhibited a malice in which no one dared step. Azure blue hair fell away from his lavender eyes and draped his broad shoulders in long strands that gleamed like the sea. Black robes trailed down to his feet, and silver chains dangled from their onyx fabric. But these made no sound even when he strode in levitation. His eyes remained closed in meditation, yet he could still see everyone and everything and that no one wished to interrupt him. Magus stared into a crystal sphere situated on human bones that had been twisted into a slender stand. The crystal brought images to life as Magus checked on the captive queen and the progress of the ongoing war.

"So, the queen has been taken from the cathedral," Lord Magus quietly stated, and drew all eyes. He possessed a smooth and almost metallic voice. It sounded as though each word echoed twice through a steel pipe from a faraway place. "It appears the Yakra has failed me." He spoke patiently, possibly the only good quality about the man. In all the years of service to Magus, no one ever heard him alter his voice in anger. "I see Frog has done well," he continued, and darkly chuckled. "How odd he still survives, serving humans in mystic form. Set her free all by himself and returns back to Guardia Castle with both the chancellor and the Queen of Guardia. You have done well, Frog. Cyrus would be proud." He grimly smiled, then flexed his long fingers, and shifted the images of the sphere around.

Suddenly he hesitated. "But who is this other man in the group? How strange. I'm not looking for that. I did not ask him of you, crystal. Do as I command. Why do you show me this person?"

Magus summoned the magic again, closed his eyes, and focused his indomitable tendrils of power to slink through reality and seek the blue gate that could return him to his homeland and to the moment he left it. The three servants knew nothing of Magus' true intentions. Someday he would return home through the gates of time to seek revenge on the one who possessed his mother's heart and destroyed his life. His followers believed he sought to rule Guardia as king. But that constituted only a minor goal in the scheme of his great plan. It masked his true purpose. Again, he conjured the spell, and attempted to discover an area in the land different from all the others. He searched for the place where blue light shone and revealed a gateway through time. He knew the portals existed. They resulted in his exile here. He would find those azure cuts in the order of nature's law. But his spell fixed neither on land nor in a building. It showed only a crimson-haired youth who strolled through a canopy of leaves in Darkwood Forest.

"Impossible," Magus whispered into the darkness. "This can't be right. Why won't it reveal the gate? Why do you show me this boy?" The Dark Lord hesitated and wondered if the crystal ailed.

But he suddenly realized his magic made no mistake. The gate Magus sought somehow linked to this boy.

Magus frowned and shifted his hands to retrieve a better picture of the boy, and his gaze fell on both Crono Zenan and Luca Devir as they passed through the woods in a small company of five. Magus uncertainly froze when Crono turned and Magus fully looked into his eyes.

"Him . . ." Magus said in surprise. "No . . . Impossible! He should be dead! I saw him in my childhood! This boy with red hair . . . How can he still live?" The servants said nothing and also seemed confused. Magus turned to Ozzie. This fool could better answer his question. Everything mystics beheld could be seen by their king and at times Ozzie's eyes proved better than the crystal vision. "Ozzie," the Dark Lord asked and pointed down at the image of Crono. "Who is he? Where did he come from and why is he here?"

Ozzie gazed into the crystal, and his lantern eyes dimly burned yellow in the shadows. His emerald skin glistened as vibrantly as spring leaves. "I don't understand the possibility of this. You say you saw this boy as a child? My Lord, this lad looks no older than seventeen, and you have lived here almost twenty years. I have no memory of you entertaining relationships with outsiders, especially a human. How could you possibly know this boy?"

"Answer me," Magus flatly commanded.

King Ozzie shrugged and stepped forward. His white robes trailed as a black skull shimmered on his chest, then he stared down into the images. From the edges of his robes emanated a silvery black aura as he closed his eyes, held his hands before him, and curled his fingers. His mind reached into the eyes of mystics dead and gone, and then froze as an image formed. Surrounded by light that shone deep blue in the morning mist, a hidden clearing in the forest sprang to life. Ozzie watched the events of two nights unfold and observed the boy as Crono stepped through the blue light and met with goblins. He couldn't believe this small glimpse of the past at first, but the truth tenaciously whispered and gradually made sense.

"A portal . . ." the mystic king whispered to Magus, who elicited a very interested look but remained wordless. "Not two days ago, somewhere in Kelvenforge. The morning before you fought in the black marshes, he arrived in a clearing of Zaida Forest. How strange . . . he seemed to appear in the same place you and I first met all those years ago. He arrived the dawn after the night of bloodshed. I recognize the red sunrise."

"Continue," Magus commanded, and his lavender eyes mysteriously twinkled.

"My goblins grew disturbed by his appearance and attacked him when he came through the south side of the encampment. They tried to take him down but fled into the mountains. They mistook him for an army of knights instead of one man. I have not heard word from them since, blundering fools!" Ozzie glared as his mystics' thoughts streamed into his mind. "I also sent a significant number of mystics to join the northern camp in an assault that could destroy Truce Village with one blow. But as it turns out, someone else murdered all of them in the same place where the red-haired one arrived. He did not kill them though. Strange holes marked their foreheads. I can only surmise that the second boy with black hair wreaked this havoc since the pair did not join forces until later. Not one mystic escaped! My entire encampment, demolished by two boys!"

King Ozzie hesitated and became frightened and confused by how his master would punish all this failure. But, surprisingly, Magus didn't appear upset at all. He actually seemed eager to hear more about this red-haired youth.

"He headed south from Kelvenforge the day he appeared and entered the Black Marshes," Ozzie continued. "I don't know why he came, but he must not have known his way because he met a swampland ogre in his trek and managed to kill the beast. Mystic eyes cannot see into the mists of Truce Village, but we can assume he regained strength there and crossed the Lazaren after the morning you passed that way. Another host of orcs ended up dead at the entrance to Darkwood when the boy headed west across the highlands. I told the orcs to safehold the Lazaren and kill any who might pass that way. But, once again, by some manner of ill fortune on our part, the infuriating boy killed several of them and somehow defeated the Malordra Witch, and thereby ended the curse on the Bridge of Fatality!"

"I suddenly like this character," Magus stated. "Do go on."

The mystic king nervously swallowed. He knew not of the dark secrets that stirred in his lord's purple eyes. "He met his ally when they reached Guardia Castle, but I don't know why a fight with the soldiers ensued after that. Not from betrayal, for after the battle at the castle, they made their way west for the cathedral of Leene's captivity. There, they joined forces with Frog, formed a secret alliance right under our noses and took down the Naga-ettes and even destroyed the small army we ordered to guard the cathedral halls! Now the church has been retaken, and I fear we no longer hold a secret defense base within King Guardia's territory. They even killed the Yakra, rescued Queen Leene and managed to free her without harm. And now they make their way east from the valley and return to the castle with the queen in their company. The rest you know. We have lost Queen Guardia."

Magus darkly smiled, and his fire-red cloak glimmered as ominously as his eyes in the blue flamelight. "And do you know their names?"

Ozzie nodded. "Crono Zenan and Luca Devir. But where they originally came from escapes the eyes of my mystics. They simply arrived from a portal in the mountains. Perhaps after they accomplish their mission and return to the castle, they will pass through the portal and return to their land. We have suffered heavy losses, my Lord! Even after all this, they still live. We cannot allow this. Let us hunt them down now before they cause any further harm."

Magus did not speak. His face remained empty of emotion, and his purple eyes fixed on the vision crystal as he softly touched it. "So it seems. What has changed cannot now turn back. But they have brought us something of tremendous value. Do not fear, Ozzie, King of Mystics, for their victory will not last long."

Flea stepped forward as her long auburn hair fell away from her blood-red vampire eyes. "Then let us destroy Crono!" she hissed and hungrily licked her lips. "His blood brims with strength! Let me savor his death and turn that strength into mine! In your honor, my Lord, I shall cut off their group in Darkwood and take the queen back for ourselves!" Her devil eyes and sharp teeth frighteningly gleamed.

Magus held up his hand for silence. "No . . . let them go. Queen Guardia no longer matters."

Ozzie gaped. His yellow eyes held an eerie contrast to his emerald skin as he surveyed his lord's words. "No longer matters? My Lord, I beg you to reconsider! The queen's disappearance has tremendously aided our cause! With King Guardia demoralized, the kingdom of the north falls with him! The war yields in our favor because of it!"

The Dark Lord shook his head no. "We can gain more from this than just winning a mere war, Ozzie, King of Mystics. One among these five wields more power than the kingdom and army of Guardia itself. The knowledge he holds transcends all the dreams of mankind." Magus turned back to the crystal, and conjured an image of Luca the inventor as he stood next to Crono on the shores of the sea. Magus gently touched the image, and his sinister smile darkened with promise as he considered all that Luca could do. Or undo, should he require it. Magus knew Luca Devir could bring him revenge.

For the first time since their meeting began, the assassin spoke. "Who are they?" Slash asked as he leaned against a pillar. His black hair flowed down to his chainmail, which had been forged of blue iron. Blades secured to his back spectrally glimmered in the azure fire. His rutted scars rippled as clearly as crimson flames as he stepped into the light. "I've never heard of this red-haired swordsman. Vanquished the mystics by himself, you say? I sense no magic in him at all, so if he took down the Yakra with swordplay alone, I'd say I have another competitor." He drew his blades faster than the eye could follow. A piercing clink and silver flash emanated from his shoulders. "I shall cut out his soul and feed it to the Dead Lake."

"Be silent," Magus said and calmly thought. "They came from a light within the mountain, from a portal that glows greater than the dawn. The light does not shine on a whim. This doorway leads into worlds you might envision only in dreams. For unknown to all of you, he who walks in the crystal can travel through time."

Ozzie and Flea froze into silence.

"Lies!" Slash flared with dark skeptical eyes. "Nobody can fly across time!"

Magus shook his head no, readjusted his scythe, then peered at Slash. The assassin paused and suddenly thought he angered Magus. But his lord's eyes remained as hard and changeless as lavender stone. "What makes you say that, assassin? What do you know of this world besides death? Have you ever studied science? Do you understand how the world turns? Can you comprehend the possibility of flaws in the laws of time? Why do you not think it possible?"

Slash straightened. "Because I've never seen a time traveler."

Magus grinned. "But you're looking at one now." Everyone went silent. They could not deny their lord's words. Although Magus lived in secrets, he always told the truth. Even his prophecies never erred. Magus stepped forward. "I know each of you wonders where I came from, and why I wandered the woods on the day Ozzie found me. I was propelled forward in time by the error of a machine. Somehow its blue light grabbed me when I entered its room. But the fact remains, I have traveled across the ages and know it can be done. A boy in that group discovered how to make the gates of time stable. He controls when their doorways open and close. The machine that sent me to this time no longer works. Fools, who knew nothing of its potential or even how to control it, destroyed it. However, the boy you see in the crystal knows much more."

Ozzie stepped forward. "Then they can create a serious threat for us. That redhead does not represent your average fighter. He single-handedly traveled all this way and defeated the Malordra Witch. Not one among the king's soldiers ever accomplished that before!"

"A simple discovery of the tonic," Magus quietly reasoned and already knew what happened. "A revelation of the dormant power of science. It's as much the same as the strange outcome that led them here. He got lucky and found something in the potion none of us considered. That boy is only a mortal."

"Then you mean for us not to kill him?" Slash asked.

Magus darkly smiled. "Not yet, assassin. You have my word, though. I will leave the bloodletting to you when the time comes." Magus softly chuckled and whispered, "When the time comes."

His voice rose. "As of now, Crono is worth nothing. We need the inventor, Luca. Alive."

Slash glared into the crystal. "Those two boys have sided with Evanheart and his damned knights! Let's just murder them on their way back to the mountain when Frog turns his back. I have crossed blades with Frog before. He's quite a masterful swordsman, as one would expect from any apprentice of Cyrus. Yet I like enemies much better dead!"

Magus looked back into the crystal. "But Crono Zenan has already died." Nobody responded. They looked surprised by Magus' words.

Flea stepped forward, and her cinnamon eyes faintly glinted crimson with the power Magus gave her long ago. "He has died?"

Magus nodded yes. "Listen to me. I have prophesied this moment in time as I have in other visions. This crystal came from my time, an age of magic that transcends the boundaries of logic and science. It can glimpse not only the Land of Guardia but also the future, and extends my sight to envision the beyond. Only I can hear its voice and receive the gift of its visions. It told me a boy with red hair would save the Queen of Guardia. I did not wish for this to happen, of course. But it revealed I would find the gates of time on the dawn of the queen's rescue. The prophecy came true. Look who ended up here. I feel the gate almost in reach." Magus lowered his eyes to the crystal again. "I saw Crono in my crystal as vividly as I saw him come through time to my homeland in my childhood. Before I arrived in this time, Crono died 13,000 years ago. No one can rewind the clock when death finds them. I remember his face and hair, but especially those eyes. Nobody in my time ever had green eyes, only blue and purple. He saved my life that day, oddly enough. His friends tried to escape the Blue City, and he died saving their lives. And mine as well. I remember that sword of blue fire . . ."

Magus stubbornly shook his head. "But he is only a fool, and doomed to die. I saw it in the past! Crono will not live to pose a threat to us. When he expires, there will no longer exist a reason to travel through time. His coming has already proven of great value. Workers fix the Bridge of Fatality as we speak. With the bridge repaired, the king believes that the northern and southern isles can unite. Men of the south will have a more suitable means to march over and fight together. They do not realize I already know this plan and will send my armies into the north before the people of Guardia have a chance to stand united. With the bridge fixed, we will storm our armies on Guardia Castle in a force that will shroud the north in shadow and flame.

"We cannot win by guarding the sea and sending mystics across only to die in the Black Marshes and the open plains that lead from the well-protected borders of the villages. The greatest stronghold of Guardia stands in the north. If we conquer Guardia Castle, the surrounding villages like Truce and Porre will fall into our grasp one by one."

The three disciples nodded, and their eyes filled with quiet malice.

The Dark Lord held up his hand. "Which brings me to my most recent vision. When bridge repairs end, a great battle will commence on its surface. The boy and his friends will journey out of the northern mountains like before. When that happens, you must capture Luca Devir. With my magic, the power of science and time, and all of you standing beside me, we can rule the world."

Magus glanced at his caretaker. "Ozzie, I give you a simple task. Secure and arm the mystics from the Denadoro Mountains and Desert Vizera. Send all that can be spared from the tower. Summon Zombor tonight and have him stand with the armies on the Bridge of Fatality. You will lead this fight, King Ozzie. Do not fail me. And do not harm Luca. Bring him to the Black Fortress. Hide in the mountains until Evanheart and his men come to send word to the southern province. Soon will Crono Zenan return again to fight in this age, and I find it all befitting that he should arrive on the day we attack the people. And that moment will happen this fortnight. We will march upon Guardia Castle in seven days!"


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter XIV—The Blade of Lunaria

The small company of five headed east across the green valley, and passed once more through the dense foliage. They left the cathedral and its nightmares behind. No one in this unlikely fellowship seemed to share anything in common. All walked paths of different lives, but each held together by the destiny of the queen.

Then suddenly, Queen Leene broke from the path and turned around to gaze back at the cathedral. Her eyes looked worried.

"Is something wrong, your majesty?" Crono asked. Leene shook her golden hair, and her words softly floated. "I knew in my heart that building felt evil. I shall have it destroyed on the morrow and rid our land of one more memory of the Dark Lord." Then she quickly walked to catch up to Frog and the chancellor.

Luca raised his eyebrows and glanced at Crono. "I guess that answers our earlier question."

Crono gazed once more at the cathedral from the hills, and watched as one of its banners detached from the pole and whisked away into the sea. "How symbolic." He waited until the banner disappeared from sight. "The destruction of the cathedral. Leene did that."

Luca shrugged. "Can't blame her. Such a beautiful church, but if someone held me captive there for days, I'd have it demolished by the most expedient means at hand. Now that I know what once lurked there, I'm glad it won't exist in our time."

"Maybe some good will come of its destruction," Crono said. "Our people might build another village somewhere in that valley. Oh, we should suggest that to the queen!"

Luca fiercely grabbed his arm, and his eyes wolfishly darkened. "Crono, do me a favor. Keep your thoughts to yourself before you erase us from existence. We've already changed enough, too much for my obsessive-compulsive nature. Don't express your ideas to anyone. What if your little dream village gets built and my family lives there in the future? If either of our families ends up with a home outside Truce, we will never meet. And boom, another paradox. So keep your mouth shut on this journey and try not to interfere with these poor peoples' lives."

Crono could not believe how much further Luca could see, glasses or no glasses.

Eager to reach Darkwood Forest on the safe paths, the small company climbed a stretch of hills and vast grasslands. Or, as Frog would say, they must avoid the shadowed gloom, lest the creatures of the dark feast upon the unwary! The little mystic led them the entire way without saying a word to anyone, even the queen. He seemed to forget people surrounded him, and Crono wondered if Frog even considered him his friend.

Frog abruptly entered a secret passage through trees so tightly entwined Crono and Luca would have never thought to try passing through them. At the end of it, the mystic simply cut apart a thick screen of bushes to reveal a road that stretched away into a new land. Despite everyone's surprise, Frog wordlessly led them ahead. Crono and Luca had bypassed these trees many times in their lives, but neither ever noticed the secret pathway that led into a segment of the cliffs. They passed waterfalls that cascaded down hundreds of feet of towering mountain rock, then crossed through a stretch of forest spreading away before them. The canopy of leaves clung to the previous night's rainfall, and songbirds rose to twitter that no danger marked the path ahead.

Droplets of morning dew glistened silver on each tiny leaf as the rising sun lit a warm fire in each soul. Frog led without stopping, and his eyes stayed cautious of hidden dangers and creatures of the deep forest. He demonstrated to be as immersed in the woodland shadows and their shimmering ponds as the water creature he resembled.

The chancellor proved as much an enigma as Frog. Crono worried for him at first due to his age. But the old man had no trouble with the hike, and he traveled as though youth never left him. Even more striking, he held magic in the staff he carried. When they reached a dark tunnel concealed in the cliffs behind a waterfall, he ignited a glowing sphere of blue light from his staff and held it aloft. The powerful blaze flared outward and radiated, but it did not burn or emit smoke. Only a few steps behind Frog, the chancellor drove away the shadows and mist, and lit the entirety of the tunnel from beginning to end. Blue and silver luminosity spread through the darkness.

But Crono and Luca would not soon forget the strangest event of all. When the company arrived at the end of the tunnel, they could find no way to cross to the cliffs that led to the heights of Guardia Castle. A bottomless chasm dropped hundreds of feet into the earth and separated them from their goal. The old man paused, whispered in an unfamiliar language, then pulled free a rainbow from out of the waterfall beside them. With a wave of his ancient hands, he sent the ethereal ribbons across the gorge, and created a bridge of iridescent light. Crono and Luca gaped at the spectacle, and watched as the slender threads of color extended in length and broadened to the size of a bridge. The light shot out and hardened like stone, then sprang to life in multiple hues.

The old man seemed to sense Crono and Luca's hesitation to cross, and assured them of its safety. The bridge still appeared as a rainbow to the boys, and Crono imagined Luca's skeptical mind would have difficulty grasping its reality. Crono knew Luca felt comfortable around tangible science rather than invisible sorcery. Crono himself feared if they stepped onto the light they would surely fall through and plummet to their death hundreds of feet below. But no premonitions came to pass, and Crono's and Luca's courage grew with every step toward the other side. As Crono crossed, he noticed his village in the faraway distance and memories of home captured his vision. A mystic, a mage, a queen, a scientist and a warrior. This odd alliance passed through the land softer than the lavender eyes that watched them from a crystal. The bridge of light proved as sturdy as iron as the five allies made their way over the gorge and descended into Darkwood Forest.

Crono suddenly felt sad that he would never see these people again and wished he could spend more time here. But he belonged beyond the forbidden light of time's doorway. He and Luca must leave. Crono still feared the image of himself fighting for Guardia on Zenan Bridge.

But even more haunting and striking of all, he suddenly realized part of him truly wished to stay in the Middle Ages.

They emerged from Darkwood Forest and followed the stone roadway that led to Guardia Castle. Before they reached the gates of the fortress, the guards who patrolled the palace grounds and barracks high above spied Crono, Luca, Frog, the chancellor and the queen. Excitement flared all across the castle grounds as the gateway to Guardia Castle opened and mounted knights stormed out like a typhoon. They carried healers on the backs of their steeds, customarily greeted the chancellor and the queen and inquired if they had suffered any major injuries. The maidens inspected the queen, who assured them that she had been well protected. The knights helped Leene astride their mounts and escorted the queen and her allies the rest of the distance to Guardia castle.

When they entered the fortress, Leene gave commands that her saviors were to be fed, washed, and healed of all injuries. After bathing, resting and feasting like kings, Frog, Crono and Luca appeared before King Guardia in the throne room. The audience consisted of the chancellor, who stood beside the king, and various knights, who knelt with their heads bowed in respect. Soldiers bordered the edges of the flowing royal carpet that the three heroes followed to stand before the king. Torchlight flared from brackets on the walls, and illuminated the colorful tapestries and majestic lion flags above. Pillars of silver and gold supported the polished stone balcony of jeweled rails where castle musicians blew horns to announce the arrival of the three expected guests.

The king stood high on the dais where the throne sat. "Crono Zenan, remain standing. In the Kingdom of Guardia, you bow to no one." The king descended the dais and came to kneel before Crono. "Words cannot describe the depth of gratitude I hold for each of you heroes for rescuing my wife. I can grant you any wish, a small reparation of the suffering you have experienced at my misguided command. Captain Evanheart told me everything. I apologize to you, Sir Luca Devir and Sir Crono Zenan. My men sought you for the wrong reasons, to have you burned alive at the stake for false allegiance to this land when I myself was at fault." Then he rose and reached out his arms as his silver-blue robes and crown shimmered in the firelight. "But the gods preserved your lives and kept you whole and for this I am glad. Nothing I can give will ever fully pay for your service to this kingdom. Your astonishing victories have extended hope to all in this dark hour. I thank you and avow myself eternally in your debt."

Frog placed a hand over his chest with golden downcast eyes. "Nay that praise be mine. For victory rose as surely as the dawn, but not for myself. Hope would yet tarry under shadow if not for the courage of these young men. Empty and unforgiven doth my heart remain, for my oath faltered as a weakly shield. Verily, my failures endangered the queen, and remorse dwells within me to the end of my days."

"Frog . . ." Queen Leene began, but Frog sadly shook his head.

"Nay my life bless and grace the allegiance of Guardia. The power to save her life nay be found if not for Sir Luca's wisdom which unveiled the mysteries of the cathedral and the divinity of Crono's swordplay that induced the death of the Yakra. Had we never met under the stars of destiny, nay that this dawn glow."

"You're too hard on yourself, Frog," Crono stated. "You saved my life. And if you hadn't been there to show us the way, we would have never found the strength to go on." Crono placed a firm grip on Frog's shoulder. "An army of lions led by a sheep can be defeated by a lion who leads an army of sheep. In this, Frog, you played the lion." Crono released his grip.

Frog turned his back to the king and queen. "Never hath I belonged anywhere. I must depart. My humblest apologies, my dear queen. Mine eyes bereft the right to behold this castle." He suddenly glanced at Crono. "I wish . . . that thee and I could hath met at another time, my friend. Thou remind me of him most. . . . Farewell."

Then, slowly, Frog trudged down the red velvet carpet, parted the imperial doors, and disappeared.

"Should we go after him?" Crono ventured, but the king shook his head no.

"Leave him be, Sir Zenan. Nothing we can say will console him. It pains us, though, that he thinks of himself in such a way. Despite his makeup, we all know him as a brave and noble man."

Luca bowed before the King and Queen of Guardia. "Majesties, we must take our leave. May this fine kingdom prosper across the centuries! Farewell."

Then Queen Leene rose to her feet, and her blue eyes filled with concern. "You would part with no gifts?"

Luca greedily grinned. A king could give them anything.

But Crono shook his head no. "I believe we received what we came for, your majesty. We wanted only to see you returned home safely again."

"But surely, I must insist on this offer, Sir Zenan. It would sadden me greatly to have you risk your lives for my sake when you receive nothing in return." She gazed at Crono again. Her eyes distantly drifted as if into a dream. Suddenly, she turned to whisper in her husband's ear.

Surprise appeared on the king's face, and he looked uncertain. "But Leene, we cannot give him that! It rejected and nearly killed the last one who touched it. What if it doesn't glow in his hand!" King Guardia glanced down at the two young heroes from where he had returned to the dais. He sighed. "Because my wife considers you a great hero, Crono Zenan, I shall grant you a mighty gift. Chancellor, my friend, bring forth Lunaria." Everyone gawked, even the knights.

For a few moments, the mage simply stared at the king and then quietly chatted with him. "You wish to present it to Sir Crono, then? My Lord, it has harmed men who dared touch it before. How will this time be different?"

The king glanced down at Crono. "I believe him worthy enough. Leene thinks highly of him. Lunaria has never known another holder in the past. Heavens part way and light shines from a place the world has never seen. Maybe Crono fulfills Cyrus' prophecy. And please fetch the black cloak, the one that bears the mark of the crimson lion."

"Kingly gifts," the old man acknowledged.

"Gifts of a king," Lord Guardia corrected. The old man bowed before he left the room. A few moments later, he returned and presented the king with a leather scabbard and a black garment folded in his arms. The king slowly took the latter and pulled free a swirling cloak that shimmered as spectrally as a black mirror. It appeared so deeply shadowed even torchlight could not touch its night-pitch fabric. Thin and gossamer as spiderwebs, the cloak bore crimson streaks that resembled flames on its edges. The brooch of a red lion fastened the cloak in place. The king seemed honored to mantle the cape around Crono's neck. He then secured it across Crono's broad shoulders before he stepped back to admire him.

Crono touched the mysterious brooch. "What is this, your majesty?"

The king's thoughtful expression did not change. "An enchanted garment known as the Cloak of Mirrodin, a magic of the night that Lord Cyrus once prized. Only two exist of its kind. And I present this one to you, Crono Zenan." The king touched Crono's shoulder as his hand dropped to the red lion brooch, and caressed the secret of its magic. "When you wear the hood, no light will ever touch you. The cloak will shield you from unwanted eyes. As thin as it may seem, it will keep you warm even on the coldest winter nights. So long as it remains on your shoulders, you can swim through a sea of ice and never feel cold. A rare gift. How else could Cyrus fight in the glacial presence of the Dark Lord? Pull it on. Try it out."

Crono hesitated, then pulled the hood over his face. Instantly Crono became only edges, black lining, and a mere reflection of his own shadow. Everything that signified his identity turned as transparent as night. Neither the light of torch or sun could touch him with the hood drawn over his head. Even though everyone could still make out his shape, he remained invisible to eyes that did not know to look for him.

Crono opened up the hood and returned to his physical multicolored form. "Thank you, your majesty," Crono calmly said, but the depths of the sea could not compare to his excited gratification. "But you mentioned something earlier about this gift that caught my attention. You said the Mirrodin Cloak has a brother. I bear this one, but who holds the second?"

The king and queen uncomfortably glanced at each other. Then Leene stepped forward to gaze into Crono's eyes. "You must understand, child. We shall never bring back the second cloak into this kingdom. It belongs to a traitor of this castle. This betrayer helped murder Cyrus the night he wore that cloak. And today, that man still wears its brother."

Her words sent chills down Crono's spine. "Who is this man?"

The queen straightened. "A soldier once, a long time ago, but no more. He became Magus' greatest assassin. He exploits the same power of the cloak you carry. His name is Slash, the last swordsman of legend after he assassinated the others and stole their titles."

Everybody went silent for a time. Crono and Luca had heard the name in Frog's brief description of Magus' three partisans.

The king nodded to the chancellor to give Crono his final gift. "Bring forth Lunaria."

The old man complied and presented Crono a scabbard with an azure blue handle as vibrant as the skyline. Within rested a sword which glimmered like a galaxy of stars all summoned together to form the shining blade. Emblazoned on the blade's surface shone red and black runes that wreathed the weapon in a swirl of thorns similar to the cloak's crimson flames. The symbol of its power, the lion insignia, twinkled where the blade began. When Crono swung the sword, a flash of blue light streaked in crescent moons that cut into the atmosphere.

Suddenly the sword flared outward as brilliant blue flames sprang to life and burned into Crono's hand and merged with him. At first, the onlookers must have thought the blade rejected its holder. But Crono remained unharmed as he held the sword aloft.

Immediately the king's face lit up and he clapped his hands and laughed. "By the grace of the gods, you were right, Leene! I never thought it . . . Crono is the one! We have found the lost holder of the Lunaria Blade!"

The flames died down a few seconds later, and the blade remained silver as Crono held it before his eyes once more in wonder.

"My boy, Cyrus once carried this sword," the king stated. "Before he left to fight the Dark Lord, he said if we ever found one of his swords again, we should give it to a man who makes black heavens part and brings light from a place where the sun does not rise. We never found Cyrus' body or his second blade, the Masamune, but we found Lunaria quite easily because of its light. We call it Lunaria because when the moon no longer shines in the night, the blade will bring azure light at the whim of its holder and guide the way forward. Sharper than the claws of dragons it has vanquished, but as light and beautiful as the moonglow from which it takes its name, no better sword exists in the Land of Guardia. We never thought Cyrus' blade would be given to a boy. It serves you now, Crono Zenan. Use it well."

The king touched Crono's shoulder. "Draw it only when battle comes to you and when light no longer shines across your path. Ah, I almost forgot! It does bear one final power. When the scabbard in which it rests attaches to the belt of its keeper, the blade cannot be seen or felt by his enemies. When inside its sheath, it appears as if you truly hold no weapon."

Crono nodded in understanding as he promised himself to remember King Guardia's words. He hooked the scabbard onto his leather belt, then secured his old weapon across his back. Suddenly Lunaria vanished and utterly disappeared from everyone's sight.

"No way," Crono said as he reached for the invisible spot on his body, and felt the smooth metal with his hand. Astonished now, he pulled free the sword and there it appeared just as seeable once more. He laughed in surprise, then slid the sword back into the now visible scabbard, and they both faded again.

"And what gifts would Sir Luca desire from a king?" Queen Leene asked the young inventor. "Name anything at all and it will be yours."

Luca shrugged. "I want one thing. Tell every brave soldier fighting in this war that Queen Leene has been returned safely to the castle. Make sure every knight knows the truth of this."

The king and queen slowly nodded and seemed confused at the strange request. But Crono understood Luca's reasons. If the soldiers never hear of the queen's rescue, it might shatter the outcome of humans ever winning the war.

"Sir Luca, your request shall be carried out at once," King Guardia stated. "As for your gift, I do believe we have something. Chancellor, retrieve the silver flask."

The old man bowed. "At once, my king. I'll have it in just a moment." He snapped his fingers and a gleaming silver flask instantly appeared in his hand. He brought it over to Luca, who took the item. Made entirely of silver and jewels, the polished and smooth flask softly shimmered. On both sides of its surface glittered rubies that shaped the mark of the red lion.

Before Luca could respond, the king spoke. "Sir Luca, we call this artifact Everflow. As you may have guessed, this portable canteen carries water. But not just ordinary water. No, the liquid inside never runs out. Just as its name suggests, it will eternally yield fresh spring water. It could refill the sea and never empty, and has been known to cure the sick."

Luca bowed and stepped back to stand next to Crono again.

The king placed his hand over his heart and lowered his head. "Both of you shall be held in highest respect. You may come and go as you please. Food, drink and beds in the knights' quarters shall always be open to you. May the gods bless you on your journey homeward."

Crono and Luca turned and headed for the doorway. Then Crono glanced back at the king. "Your majesty, I have one last question. Who was Lord Cyrus? Everywhere I walk in this land, I hear his name. But it's always half whispered. I never truly understood his identity."

"The greatest warrior that ever lived," the king replied. "He died long ago after fighting the Dark Lord." The king gazed down at the floor as if to hide a profound sadness. "Glenn Deragon stood with him that day."

A long moment of silence ensued before Crono spoke. "Who's Glenn Deragon?"

The king looked into his eyes. "He left this room not long ago and led you to save Queen Leene. Glenn Deragon is Frog's true name." Crono gaped, but the king answered Crono's biggest question. "Yes, Glenn we once called him. He was a man once, in fact. But he has forsaken his name because of his new form. He lives with what Magus turned him into and what he believes he failed to do in his mortal shape. Now cursed with a frog's form and his manner of speaking."

"Magus did this to him?" Luca repeated. "Just like the chapel maidens in the cathedral. Magus transformed him. That explains why he fights for humans."

The king nodded. "I believe no true mystic ever took that path. But indeed, Glenn Deragon assumed the mystic form but not the mystic heart. No magic in the world can rewrite the human heart. The night Magus killed Cyrus and cast him off the mountain, something strange happened. The Dark Lord spared Glenn. He actually showed mercy and allowed him to leave that place and never return. I've not the faintest clue why someone so heartless would spare life. As a boy, Glenn apprenticed with Lord Cyrus and it took us some time to truly recognize this frog character as Glenn when he returned. Even in his form, Glenn still serves our people as Cyrus would want him to. But a greater ambition guides his heart, though he may try to hide it. If you haven't noticed, the scar on Frog's left palm comes from him spilling his own blood and swearing he would avenge Cyrus by killing Magus."

The chancellor stepped forward. His gold and green robes shimmered as vibrantly as his strange youthful eyes. "So then, this leaves just one last mystery for us. The identity of that girl we found in the mountains. The young lady looked so much like our queen, but we still have no idea as to where she came from."

"Damn!" Luca exclaimed. "I forgot about Nadia!" Everyone except Crono frowned in confusion. "Where did she disappear, Crono? What room?"

Crono curiously studied him. "Why does it matter? Shouldn't she already be back in our . . ." (He caught himself before saying "time.") "Homeland?"

Luca adjusted his glasses. "Initially, I thought that as well. But it wouldn't make any sense, considering the events. She should be asleep in the place you last saw her."

Crono strode over to one of the doors and peered out. "That way. I last saw her in the queen's room."

Queen Leene's eyes brightened. "Oh! I discovered her asleep on my bedroom floor hours ago and had her carried to the servant quarters. It's far down the right wing as you exit this room. Poor dear. You should see if she's awake now."

On hearing this, Crono bolted out of the throne room and disappeared down the halls.

Luca rolled his eyes and bowed to the King and Queen of Guardia. "Majesties, I sense this is where we take our leave. Goodbye!" Instantly Luca pivoted and chased after Crono, and left the king and queen amused and reflecting on the days of their own youth.

"Do you think we will ever see them again?" Queen Leene quietly asked.

The king nodded. "In time," he stated. "In time."


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter XV—The Gatekey

The Princess of Guardia experienced dreams with bits and pieces of memories that shadowed the course of her life. Through doorways of her mind, she walked as she would a cloud-swept forest and watched a golden sunset fall across a land of spring green where a bell chimed seven in the twilight. Images drifted, and landscapes stretched into eternity. Transparent and shifting as sunlight on water's surface, the sights did not appear familiar to her. People and places rose and fell, and she didn't know their names or why they emerged. The most fearsome question concerned her own identity. Where, who or what was she?

But the clearest of all images consisted of two boys she may have known in another life. The first one boasted soft blue eyes and dark hair. He called out to her, and spoke small words that formed her name. Peering into his eyes, she remembered a strange pulsing blue light that formed a portal through which she whisked away to lands beyond the sunrise. The other boy wore long red hair and azure robes. Eyes as strong as emerald stone, he gazed up at her from a clearing in the woods as she soared through the heavens in a peace she never felt before.

The dream embraced her with soft and cool wind. But suddenly the two boys disappeared, and a gray mist replaced them. It steadily consumed her and the light-filled world of her dreams. She noted the dimming of the eastern sky as the boy with red hair faded into the gloom. Nightmares assailed her then. Creatures of dark imagination arrived, and the night seemed to breathe and come alive with terrifying suddenness. But she had no voice with which to scream. The forests turned into stark trees. Earth darkened, and the heavens held no stars. It seemed as though the sky fell. She tried to escape the drowning world and swam up through the waters of sleep towards the bright surface of waking. But the distance grew the closer she neared the top, and her hopes shattered. She searched into the mist as the blackness roiled and thickened like the sea. Who would reach out to her, take her hand, and pull her clear of that sea? She remained alone. Then came the voice. It belonged to the boy with red hair. It urged the princess to fight back against the nightmares.

Out of nowhere, the darkness cracked asunder as someone charged through the last tiny beam of the fading sun. She didn't know where he came from, but the nightmares fell back against him. With a sword that burned deep blue in the night, he chased away the clouds. The azure light touched her, and she felt life in her again. A hand took hers and pulled her free. Light filled her dreams, and as the storm receded, the nightmares turned away. She glanced into the eyes of the figure of blue light. Shadows faded and his voice called out. I will not abandon you. His presence offered a shelter in which a sense of calm prevailed and nothing dark could touch her. As the mist cleared and the world assumed color, a name suddenly came to mind. Crono Zenan.

She softly cried as her soul returned and the memories flooded back.

"And thus the light begins to rise," Glenn Deragon whispered as he passed through the shadows of Darkwood Forest with his hood drawn over his face. "Shadows fade as a symbol that hope shall outlive the befalling darkness. The sun shines, but nay that it reach my heart. Alas, poor Cyrus. Ruins be the foundation of my pledge and promise. By the light of heaven, may Guardia's true hero protect this kingdom for all time." He inspected the scar on his left hand and tightened his fist. "I swear on Cyrus' grave, Magus will die by my sword!" He crossed a small blue stream where he noticed tiny frogs that hopped across the lily pads. "Who am I?" he whispered to the surrounding gloom. Human or mystic, he wondered if he would ever find the answer. Then he headed south from Guardia Castle, and sought to leave the northland and all its painful memories behind.

"Perhaps in another land, my blade shall change fate for the greater good." His golden eyes glimmered as he thought back on the memories of his life. He remembered his training with Cyrus right here on the Lazaren, and wondered just how blind-sighted he had become. Long ago, he swore on his word and life he would protect the Queen of Guardia, that he would walk forever in the shadow of death and pay any price to ensure her safety. He glanced back to the dimness of the sweeping Castle of Guardia on the mountain. Plagued by sorrow and guilt, Frog couldn't stay there any longer. He couldn't absolve himself of his failure to protect Leene, and blamed himself for his helplessness, both at her kidnapping and during the fight with the Yakra. How twisted had fate become? He lived the honor of being trained by the greatest warrior that ever existed and yet two boys half his age proved more astute guardians than he.

Glenn's thoughts surfaced not from envy but from honor. He realized Crono Zenan and Luca Devir would better fit the title of protector of the queen. Glenn never wanted to show his mystic face in the north again. No longer would men, women and children cringe when they gazed at him. No longer would people laugh and ridicule when he turned his back. For a long time, Glenn journeyed south across the land. He convinced himself that a new age arrived as surely as the dawn. Time for other heroes to stand in his place.

He stopped once on his journey, but only because he came to the end of the land, where the shores of the ocean glimmered like sparkling diamonds.

Standing west of Zenan Bridge and staring at the edge of the water, where sunlight shone stronger than he remembered, he pondered his choices. Then he sighed, closed his eyes, and spread out his arms. "Guide me, waters of life," he whispered. "Be they land or mortal, carry my steps to those that need most comfort and restoration." With that, Glenn Deragon slowly walked into the rising sea and disappeared.

Crono's and Luca's footsteps echoed in the wide torchlit hallway, where bright colorful gems glimmered from the polished architecture. Streams of light softly tapered through the stained-glass windows that adorned the walls, and gleamed across the silver pillars that supported the balconies overhead. Throughout the castle and high above the archways, the crimson flags of the lion appeared as great fiery banners. Their majestic hues contrasted with the dark stone, crossed swords, and shields of blue iron that bordered the fortress at regular intervals.

"The servant chamber's over here!" Crono announced as he passed through the castle halls to find the sleeping quarters. Luca wearily panted from behind and eventually caught up with him. After leaving the throne room, they followed the western hallway. The sound of flaming torches softly crackled in their ears as they marched ahead. Flooding the walls, vibrant tapestries only briefly caught their eye. Crono nervously tensed as he strode and heavily breathed.

"Slow down," Luca ordered and tried to match his pace. "What am I, a mirage?"

Crono stopped and fell into step with his friend. "Sorry. I'm just worried about Nadia."

Luca sighed. "I know. But I've walked across hell's acre and back to save you and your little girlfriend. I'm still the leader and your ticket home, so you follow me. It might even do you some good anyway, because we're still in King Guardia's home and we should show some respect. No running!" Guards saluted Crono and Luca at every turn. Their armor softly clinked as they respectfully nodded. Some even removed their helmets and flashed a welcoming smile.

"Hail, Sir Zenan! Hail, Sir Devir!" the soldiers exclaimed to boys worthy of their rank. Nobody questioned the pair's presence, and even the fond glances and winks of a few castle maidens struck Luca as they jogged. The crimson brooch of the Mirrodin Cloak must have signified top rank in Guardia, with Evanheart the only other warrior in the land Crono noticed wearing the mark of the red lion. As he hurried, Crono gradually noted the soldiers stood at attention when he passed them; others covered their hearts and bowed their heads. Crono's status in the kingdom rose from lowly peasant on death row to gallant hero overnight. For the first time since he left home, he felt he belonged.

Crono and Luca bypassed the storage rooms and the armory and crossed a few intersecting halls as they marched toward the servant quarters. There, Crono opened the wooden doors and discovered a short purple-carpeted stairwell with golden railings that led down into a spacious chamber lined with beds. On the distant wall, a massive red blaze flared from a stone fireplace. Only one person occupied the room. A wave of relief rushed over Crono. Nadia lay fast asleep on the nearest cot below the stairwell. Soft blue quilts blanketed the princess, and her long hair splayed across the feather pillow like golden silk.

Crono slid down the banister and rushed over to Nadia. He knelt to cradle her motionless form. "Nadia," he whispered, and stroked her face, but she did not respond. Crono's voice rose as he glanced back at Luca. "What's wrong with her? She's not moving!"

Luca gently pulled down Nadia's blanket and observed her chest, which did not rise or fall. Then he put his hand to her mouth and detected no breath. "She doesn't appear to be breathing."

"What's that mean?" Crono shouted. "You said she'd be alive!"

"A few seconds," Luca flatly responded. "I said she doesn't appear to be breathing. Open your ears and give her a moment."

Nadia lay in deathly sleep, but the paleness of her features did little to mask her beauty. As Crono continued to watch, the Princess of Guardia opened her sapphire eyes and returned to life.

Crono softly gasped, then glanced back at Luca. "Why are you always right? It's almost unfair."

Luca wolfishly grinned. "I invented a time machine. Don't question my power."

Nadia slowly looked around. Her face wavered between fright and curiosity as her bright eyes twinkled in the warm glow of the fire.

Crono gazed into Nadia's eyes, which had sparkled as deep as the sea at nightfall when they first met. She smiled when she noticed in whose arms she lay. "Crono!" she weakly sighed, then rose to a sitting position to hug him around the neck. "You're here. I thought I'd never see you again."

Crono hugged her back and caressed her hair. "I couldn't leave you in the castle alone. And look, Luca's here, too."

Luca stoically nodded, then stepped forward to study her. "Nadia, do you remember where you are? What year is this?"

She glanced up at Luca in confusion for a moment. Her gaze strayed to the silver cross that dangled on a chain around his neck. "It's 600 A.D." She began rubbing the sleep from her eyes to more clearly view her surroundings.

Crono breathed in relief. "She's all right. Now we can go home." Nadia gently pushed herself away from Crono but kept her grip on his hands as he helped her out of bed and raised her eye level with him. The day of the Millennial Fair happened for them all over again. They stared at each other in the pale half-light that streamed through the windows high above. Nadia pressed close to Crono and lightly kissed him on the mouth, then blushed and turned away.

Luca laughed. "I hope you two feel happy about what you did, because you pretty much ruined my life as we know it. You might as well've been two stars colliding."

Nadia beamed. "Worth it! It's good to see you both again."

"What happened when you blacked out?" Crono asked.

She turned to look at him. "I landed somewhere dark and cold. It felt like more than a dream. I remember a forest. Something evil lurked there. Everything lost color, and voices kept whispering. A tunnel appeared like the one that brought me here, but much worse than Luca's invention. I've never felt anything like it before. Did I die?"

Luca shrugged. "Death sounds much more preferable to what you just described."

"What's going on, Luca?" Nadia inquired. "You're the only one who understands that machine. Why did I pass out?"

Luca sighed. "I'll explain later, like maybe four hundred years from now. But we need to leave before we change anything else."

Nadia nodded in agreement. "You're right, I'm sorry. Yes, we have to go home."

"Do you think you're strong enough for the journey back to the clearing where we first showed up?" Crono asked with concern.

She rubbed her head. "I have an awful headache. But I should be all right."

"Let me know if you feel faint on the road," Luca suggested. "I'll give you some water."

"Thank you, Crono and Luca," Nadia replied, "for coming all this way for me. Thank you for everything."

Crono and Luca shared the same befuddled expression. Nadia couldn't fully understand the journey Crono and Luca endured to save her. Crono supposed she remembered only losing consciousness and finding the two boys from the fair waiting for her when she awoke. She arose, stood and limped away. After slowly ascending the stairwall, she opened the doors and headed down the now-empty halls.

Crono glanced at Luca. "Should we tell her the truth? Do you think she should know she was erased from existence?"

"In due time," Luca responded. "It's best if I explain it to her. When I finish telling Nadia the tale of how you rescued her, a hundred hearts won't be able to carry the love she'll feel for you."

Crono and Luca jogged ahead to catch up to Nadia. "It's good to have you back on the team," Luca told Nadia as he and Crono reached her. "Your archery may aid us tremendously on the journey home. You gave us quite a scare, Princess Nadia."

She gaped at Luca, but his interested expression did not change. "Princess? Luca how did you . . ." They both stared at her. "Uh-oh." She giggled. "I guess you guys figured it out, huh? I'm sorry for all the trouble I've caused. Especially for you, Crono. I didn't mean to deceive you at the fair. It's just . . . I wanted to be treated like a normal person so badly. Just for one day, I didn't want to be a princess!"

"Why didn't you just tell me the truth? Why would you hide that?" Crono asked.

She peered down at the polished floor. Her soft leather boots gently rustled on the thick purple carpets. "I wanted to be with someone my own age for a change. If you knew my identity, the respect you'd owe would interfere with my getting to know you."

Luca nodded in agreement. "Makes sense. How difficult to be yourself around someone whose father could have your head with one command."

"That's why I lied to you, Crono," Nadia admitted. "I'm sorry. When we return home, I'd like to start over." She touched his arm. "No more lies. I promise."

"Sounds good," Crono said.

The trio neared the exterior doors of the castle when a familiar face appeared from one of the intersecting halls. "Evanheart!" Crono exclaimed to the captain, then saluted him.

The knight's gold chainmail sparkled as vibrantly as the pillars that rose into the arched sweeping ceiling. Evanheart returned Crono's gesture. "Well met, Sir Zenan. So, the prophecy of Lord Cyrus points to you. The Mirrodin Cloak suits you well. I am glad to have a righteous hero holding the Lunaria Blade once again." He glanced at Crono's two allies, and his blue eyes appeared hard and crisp in the faint light. "I feared you left without saying goodbye."

Crono shook his head. "Not yet. You caught us at a good time because we're heading home right now. I do hope to see you again someday, Evanheart," he said, though he knew this would be their last meeting.

"As do I, Sir Zenan," Evanheart agreed.

Luca brushed back a lock of his dark hair and stepped forward. "Excuse me, Captain, but do you know a faster way to Kelvenforge Mountains than back through the south? We really don't want to pass across the Lazaren and the Black Marshes again. I notice the castle stands on the ledges running back from the mountain. There must be a way directly north through the castle. I assume the architects fashioned a secret passage for an extra safety precaution for the king and queen."

Evanheart fixed his stern eyes on Luca. The knight's armor and crimson cloak faintly shimmered in the torchlight. "You are wise beyond your years, Sir Luca. Another way does pass through the castle. But beyond the corridor yields varying beasts. Mystics may lie in wait to attack us. Even the native creatures of the mountains act hostile towards us. I wouldn't recommend you take the north road. It's a very dangerous passage at this time." He paused, then suddenly grinned. "Wait, what am I saying? You defeated the witch and the Yakra! This should make easy work for you. Forgive me. I forget sometimes I converse with heroes." He pointed. "Down that hall you will find an unlit torch on the wall. It's a lever that will unveil a secret corridor behind the last knight statue on your right. Set your course north until you reach a split in the mountain called Lionsden Pass, its entrance an enormous rock that resembles a lion's head. You can't miss it. When you reach it, I must warn you, do not enter the pass there, but turn east and you will find yourself on a slender road in Kelvenforge that will take you to the canyon. The tunnel from the hallway stays dark, though, so I advise torchlight. Keep your weapons close, and stay safe, young ones."

Luca nodded as he finished writing down the directions in his little black journal. "Thank you for your help, Captain. May I ask how the war goes?"

Evanheart dismally shook his head. "Grave, young sir. Our forts to the south have begun to collapse. The front divisions have been severely battered, and we've had difficulty contacting men from the south and determining their progress. The war engulfs all of Guardia. Even if the southerners wanted to reach the north, the Denadoro Mountains stand between us. Fiends march down from the Black Fortress in numberless hordes. Magus even controls the sea and its weather, so it's nigh impossible to unite. We cannot openly risk deploying fleets, as a movement of that size will not go unnoticed. Our best course of action consists of defending until the workers fix and secure Zenan Bridge."

Evanheart sighed. "Magus' servants are inhuman. The mystics have fled for now, but they'll return. I expect they plot another attack from the north, where most of our forces lie weak. But I still have hope. Zenan Bridge is the key. It shall be rebuilt in a week and allow a vast army to march here untroubled. I await my deployment at the front. If only Cyrus could return and deliver us from this monster." He smiled sadly. "I hope without hope, but don't you wish you could change the past sometimes?"

A long moment of silence passed before Crono nodded in understanding. "I've been there."

Captain Evanheart stared at the blue shields mounted on the walls above them. "How I wish to see my prayers and dreams fulfilled. Everyday I try to end this war, to give our people a world without mist, where skies shine blue, not black. I want the marshes to die and become lush fields of green, for the seas to clear as the world intended. They call me a fool for my wishes. Perhaps only young people can understand. I long to watch the Lazaren flourish with farmlands, to find Zaida Falls bringing life to the plants and spreading color throughout Guardia. I suppose my paradise will not occur for hundreds of years."

The three silently stared at the knight for a long time. His dream world mirrored their home in the future, a place only they could take him.

"Evanheart," Crono said sadly. He wished he could transport the captain forward to 1000 A.D., if only for a day, to experience his dreams come to life, and to let him know that everything he fought for came to pass. But they could not again link forbidden times together. They had already made that mistake once.

"Ah, don't listen to an old man like me," Evanheart softly said. "The progress of this war will turn me senile. Stay true to each other and stay on the road. I will never forget you, Sir Zenan, the boy whose hair shines red like fire."

Crono reached out his hand, which Evanheart took in his own. "And I will remember you as the knight I will someday become."

"Take these last tonics with you," Evanheart offered as he handed Luca the spare vials. Luca slipped them into his pouch. "They belong to you now because sadly the man who owned them did not reach them in time. Good luck in your travels, both of you, and to you as well, fair lady . . ." Evanheart paused when he gazed more closely at Nadia. He blankly stared and suddenly realized she wasn't the queen. "How strange you appear so much like our queen. I could have mistaken you for her daughter." He softly laughed. "I do apologize for the mix-up the other day. Now I feel like a no-good kidnapper. Goodbye, my friends. May our paths cross another time."

Crono waved in parting. "Take care, Evanheart."

The three followed the hall that Crono and Luca had traveled earlier, and searched for an unlit torch somewhere along one of the walls. A few moments later, Nadia quickly pointed out the lever, and explained she already knew of its existence in 1000 A.D. Smaller than the other torches, a thin wooden stick protruded from a dark space in the wall. Crono pulled the lever and listened to the echo of grinding stone as a passageway opened behind the last knight statue on the right. Then Crono wordlessly led Luca and Nadia ahead. His rough face peered into the dark corridor, but his eyes brightened with fearless determination.

Several yards wide and hundreds of feet deep, the broad tunnel disappeared into the enshrouding gloom. A series of dangling gossamer cobwebs wreathed the underpass a few feet within. Crono grabbed a torch set in a bracket nearby and stepped into the hollow channel. The faint scrape of tiny stones echoed underfoot as he touched the firelight to the overhanging spiderwebs, which shriveled into crimson ashes and floated away. Water dripped through tiny cracks in the rocky ceiling and dampened the crumbly tunnel grounds. In the hazy torchlight, the trickling liquid appeared as droplets of metallic rainfall. A musky earthly smell emanated from the passageway and reminded Nadia of making mud pies in the castle courtyard as a child. As they walked for what seemed like hours, the crunch of unknown debris echoed from the dusty rock-littered ground. Then they neared the far end of the long corridor and discovered faint rays of gray light that streamed through a chipped basement door beyond a stone stairwell. They cautiously ascended the stairs, and the light grew stronger as they climbed to the top and reached the surface land again. Into view came a faraway stretch of soft mountain soil and sparse grass with a hazy line of trees further ahead.

"I'm so glad our visit's done," Crono stated as he took Nadia's hand and helped her out of the stairwell. Luca brought up the rear as they hiked northward up the mountain. "Everything that happened these last few days feels like a long time ago."

"In a way it's true," Luca declared. "You're about to travel four hundred years distant."

Crono laughed. "I don't think I've ever felt this homesick. I can't wait to return to 1000 A.D. and experience Guardia after all the changes we made."

Luca shrugged. "Don't look forward to it. We didn't make any noticeable alterations except for the story of Queen Guardia's rescue and a historical depiction concerning three heroes. That's all the history book says."

"I'm going to play every game at the festival, gorge on every snack known to mankind, and then pass out tonight in my own bed," Crono stated as he glanced at the inventor, who had fallen into step with him. "So Luca, how does that portal work anyway?"

Luca sighed. "I just want to find the clearing where we first showed up. I'm too tired and cranky to get into a scientific discussion. Knowing you, you'll probably stop listening to me halfway through. When we reach the woods, I'll explain what little I can so we . . . Whoa." They came upon a sweeping artistic formation. Hewn by hand in the mountain rock, a lion head with eyes of blue granite stared down and seemed to pierce their hearts. "We turn east here," Luca announced. "Just like Evanheart told us. Follow me."

Crono hesitated. "Why don't we go through Lionsden Pass? I've never seen it before. It curves up to the north and will probably bring us to the forest clearing faster than the east road."

Nadia put her hands on her hips and glared. "No, Crono! I go by whatever Luca says on this trip, because the last time I followed your example I got zapped into the past."

Luca chuckled. "She's right, Crono. Plus you're horrible with directions and I don't wish to ignore the warnings of a knight who knows more about this land than any history book. We're going east."

"That'll probably save everyone's life!" Nadia dryly replied to Crono, with a smile.

So they journeyed east from the pass, deftly hiked through the dead forest trees, and sought the heart of Kelvenforge where the blue portal waited. Nothing marked the land beyond except for the soft rolling carpet of the earth lit by the halo of a quiet afternoon sun. Patches of grass grew along tiny streams as they trekked further into the mountains, and kept their thoughts to themselves. They grew unnerved when a host of forest imps passed them on the road. Beady little eyes worriedly stared at Crono, and their pointed ears cautiously twitched. They hurried away when they noticed the fire-haired youth darkly glare at them, and his leer seemed to chill them to the bone.

The three discovered a small road that led to the forest clearing when Luca suddenly froze and held up his hand. Confused, Crono and Nadia waited for his command. Luca's blue eyes filled with uncertainty.

"Luca, what's wrong? Why did you . . ." Crono began before a familiar sound broke from the darkness and cut him off. The three waited in silence for a time, and listened to faint but thundering echoes. The birds had stopped chirping, and a sense of doom filled the horizon beyond.

"It's already here," Luca whispered to himself. "They've come to answer his call." Crono stared at his friend but never had a chance to ask of what he spoke. "Hide in the bushes!" Luca cried out. "Right now, Crono! Go! We can't be seen!"

Crono uncertainly paused. "Luca, what are you . . ."

The inventor harshly shoved him. "Now, Crono! Do as I say! Hurry! Get in those bushes and keep quiet!" Nadia immediately complied, and charged into a patch of forsythia. Then she knelt down. But Crono stood his ground and demanded an answer.

Unwilling to wait any longer, Luca angrily charged at Crono and tackled him into the bushes.


	16. Chapter 16

Chapter XVI—Doorway to the Present

After Luca tackled Crono, the three hid in the silence of a concealing canopy of leaves. Luca appeared lost in thought, and Crono's face became steadfast in the half-light as tension grew with every footstep that drew closer to their hiding place. Crono felt Nadia take his hand, and he huddled down with her. Unwilling to lose her again, he gently tightened his strong and reassuring grip. They waited for a long time, and hid from something only Luca recognized. But he offered no explanation as the clomping of numerous footsteps grew louder and the ground shook beneath them. A moment later, all three froze in a fear that transcended anything they had ever felt. Even Crono stared through the leaves in disbelief.

Hundreds of mystics and their orc allies, with goblins, trolls, ogres, devils and feral-eyed woodland imps that rode poisonous snakes came marching out of Lionsden Pass in a force that trembled the earth. They proceeded unchallenged down the length of the gorge, and flattened every living thing as if a torrential fire. The burning promise of Magus arrived as they held high the banners of the black scythe. Faceless demons wrapped blacker than the night led the procession, and a division of ogres guarded their way. Emblazoned on the chest of every monster gleamed the emblem of Magus.

Of all the rumors Crono Zenan had heard, all the lore Luca Devir ever read, and all the nightmares Princess Nadia ever dreamed, none transcended the terror of the creatures that barreled through this gorge. They swarmed southward from Kelvenforge and Zaida Forest to the Black Marshes. The three allies motionlessly knelt and scarcely dared to breathe as they watched the army pour down from the great mountain darkness in numbers too great for the land over which Magus reigned. This battalion must have included residents of the northland too, not far from the castle.

"What are they?" Crono silently whispered and huddled closer to Luca.

"Mystics," Luca grimly replied. "It seems Magus grows impatient with the progress of the war and sends another force more powerful than the last from the north of Guardia."

Crono glanced at Nadia before turning back to his friend. "Wait. That's impossible. That army originates from the south, not the north. I've never heard about this in history."

With his blue eyes locked in concentration, Luca nodded. His loose black hair waved in the wind as he studied the army. "That's because history changed, Crono. The outcome of the battle alters according to what we did and the knowledge Magus has gained. I think the Dark Lord knows our identities and why we came."

Crono looked stunned. "You mean . . ."

Luca glanced back to his friend. "Yes. He must know the existence of time travel. Based on what I've read about him in our time, he watches the land with a crystal and must have seen what we did. Now he sends a force from the north to demoralize our people for the battle that will soon take place on Zenan Bridge. The history book says we do win this war for sure, but honestly I don't see how against a force like this.

Even now, a greater one marches from the Black Fortress to Zenan Bridge, and the entire northland will end up under siege. I have a feeling Magus will show his face soon."

They wordlessly waited as the army disappeared into the misty distance. Tremors of its passing continued to shake the stones of Kelvenforge. Then Crono recalled Frog's words. "Their attack will shake the stones of Kelvenforge," Crono whispered, but only Nadia seemed to hear.

"Those imps we saw earlier on the road acted as scouts of the larger force that just arrived from the pass," Luca said. "He'll be hunting for us, Crono. Magus will keep his eyes on us. It's possible he knows every word we're saying right now. We need to get out of here."

They continued onward up the mountain slope, and ascended the same path the army descended a few moments before. Each felt determined to reach time's gateway before something worse happened. A faint gray mist tenderly caressed the trails and rocks of the mountain, and seemed to mirror the Black Marshes that distantly roiled below them. Only Crono and Nadia conversed during the trek. Both voiced their concerns and spoke of all that occured. But Luca seemed to entirely forget his friends. He said nothing, and his mind stayed lost in other matters as he focused only on the task ahead.

Crono sensed how troubled Luca must feel as the only one who understood the time portals. To struggle alone with thoughts and resolutions for the space-time continuum, Crono couldn't imagine the difficulty, and he wished he could offer more to help.

As Luca walked ahead, and apparently retraced in his mind the events that had transpired, Crono hoped they would not somehow create another paradox. In any case, they found little to discuss during the trip. The three focused mostly on the road ahead, and sensed that all hostilities of the mountain already disappeared south with the army.

"If Magus knows who we are, then wouldn't he know about time travel?" Nadia asked as she fell into step with Crono.

"Magus may want to get his hands on Luca's secret," Crono replied. "I mean, Magus holds a lot of power and if he discovered the answer to the portals and learned to time travel, he could do just about anything. We're not going to let that happen. I don't care how strong he is."

Nadia thoughtfully nodded. "Luca said Magus would be watching us. Maybe so. I've felt eyes on us ever since we entered the castle tunnel. But his presence feels familiar somehow. It's strange."

"We're going to be fine," Crono assured her. "We're almost home."

The trio followed the land east from the northern pass, and avoided the dangers of the mountain. Only a few minutes transpired before Crono stopped in his tracks. The other two approached him with inquiring expressions.

"What are you doing, Crono?" the princess asked. "Why did you stop? Let's keep moving."

"I have to see for myself," Crono responded, but offered nothing more. Suddenly he broke from the path and jogged through a small grove of trees where the mountain ledge dropped into a ridge that led to the Black Marshes. The other two hesitated, then ran after him, and tried to keep up as Nadia shouted his name from behind.

"Crono, why are you . . ." she began, but stopped at the edge of a cliff that overlooked the Black Marshes. The distant black shapes of Truce Village jutted from beneath the southern horizon.

Crono grimly stared into the bleak expanse. "This whole time, I sensed the evil of those flames. Now I'm certain."

From where they stood, the three easily beheld the flames of the Black Marshes. Spawned by the Dark Lord days before, the fire stole away warmth and light, and darkened the land with evil. Down below, the trio watched as the army of Magus poured out of the dead trees and continued their passage southeast towards the Village of Truce. More creatures gathered from the marshes into the already sweeping force.

"That must be how my family's tavern was destroyed," Crono stated and tightened his fist. "They're going to attack Truce Village." For the longest time, Crono stared with outrage.

From some foul-shadowed chamber in the Black Fortress, they knew Magus drew all evil to him. He called out with a voice only his servants could hear. "Should we return to the castle and tell Evanheart what we saw?" Crono asked.

Luca shook his head no. "They already know what they're up against, Crono. If we want to survive, we have to get out of here now. I have no intention of covering the same distance twice and risking another catastrophe."

The black waters stretched into the horizons north and south with a dark stain on the earth. The demons below did not cause Crono to pause, nor did the sheer size of the army his people must fight. A revelation did. It concerned those dark flames he passed through days before when he first arrived. From that mountain ledge he saw a design etched into the ashes. An image of Magus grasped a scythe impaled in a mortal skull. In the placid water still lay the forgotten bodies of many dead men. Their remains belonged to that once strong conclave of forty knights. None of them could kill the one man who threatened to enslave them all.

"The Dark Lord's mark," Luca quietly stated. "All those men lost because of him."

Nadia stared in stark horror and covered her mouth in disbelief. Tears formed in her eyes but her voice remained strong. "What happened down there? Who could do such a thing?" But in her heart she knew his name. "Such senseless evil. I can't watch this." She turned away.

Crono glanced at Luca. "Should we go down there and see if anyone's still alive?"

"The battle happened days ago," Luca replied. "Nothing lives down there. Magus leaves none alive. He's only ever spared two. Toma and Frog."

The fire-haired youth narrowed his eyes in determination. "He got his hands on Frog and destroyed his life, but I won't let him find you, Luca."

The inventor grinned. "Perhaps Magus won't expect a bullet in the face if I ever meet him. But we've lingered here too long. Let's go." Crono nodded, then turned to Nadia and took her hand. From there, they journeyed north with eyes hazed by fear as they glanced below the mountains to the distant Black Marshes where so much death had occurred. More out of necessity than actual hunger, they stopped to eat the meal Luca carried in his backpack, and washed down the food with the drink in Luca's flask, Everflow. They could feel the magic liquid surge through their bodies and renew them.

"Wow, that water tastes amazing," Crono stated.

"It will certainly save me a fortune on medical supplies," Luca responded. "King Guardia mentioned it can also heal sickness. I'll be sure to test it if any of us become ill."

"Can it heal brain sickness?" Nadia dryly offered. "Because based on what we saw back there, Magus could use some of that water."

Nobody said much after that. They ascended higher into the mountains, and the uneven terrain became rockier. The air felt colder only for Luca and Nadia, who wore no magical Mirrodin Cloak to shield them from the cold. At Luca's bidding, they changed their course north. From time to time, Luca stumbled and fell to the rocky earth as if wounded. When Crono tried to help him up, Luca pushed Crono away and assured him he felt fine. He seemed befuddled by something, and when Crono asked if they were lost Luca simply replied home waited just beyond. From his jacket pocket, Luca would sometimes pull out a blue-glowing device, which he inspected before putting away. When Crono and Nadia asked about it, Luca hid it in his jacket and told them they couldn't see it yet.

Crono figured Luca used another of his inventions to guide them back to the forest clearing and he felt slightly annoyed that Luca evaded their questions.

At times, the device sparkled blue in Luca's pocket, but Crono still bore Nadia's sapphire pendant, the sole reason the portal opened in the first place, so he knew Luca hid something else. How did he reach this time period without her pendant anyway? The inventor forced them to journey in suspense the entire way. Crono and Nadia spoke to each other about Luca and how strange he acted. But his mysteries proved to be the most exciting part of the trip, and the desire to know grew deeper with each step they took northward.

"Ouch!" Nadia exclaimed when they reached the tip of the mountain. "Urgh! These spindly bushes get on my nerves! Are we almost there, Luca?"

The young scientist glanced at his device and checked the sun's location. "Yes, Princess," he formally replied as he placed the device back in his jacket. "Just a few more . . ."

Nadia's sigh interrupted him. "Please Luca, just call me Nadia. I really didn't mind you calling me 'blondie' when we first met that night of your invention. It sounded cute." Crono rolled his eyes from somewhere behind. "The first time anyone ever joked with me. It made me feel like a person and not someone everybody respects because I'm a rich man's daughter. Just treat me as you would treat Crono."

Luca chuckled. "Trust me, you don't want me treating you like punkhead over there. I constantly delight in abusing him.

It might take some time, but I'll eventually grow accustomed to addressing you without formalities. Nadia."

"Thank you," she said, and continued onward with Luca leading.

The trio emerged into the familiar sight of the forest clearing where the sun brightly shone.

"Eww!" Nadia exclaimed on finding the carcasses of the goblins and orcs Crono and Luca killed when they first appeared.

"Well, here we are!" the inventor merrily stated. "From here we go home."

Nadia uncertainly glanced at Luca. "We appeared in this part of the forest? Are you sure?"

Luca sighed. "Yes, I'm sure! Remember what happened last time you didn't listen to me? You ended up four hundred years in the past." He readjusted his glasses. "We'll be home in a jiffy."

"How do we return to our original time?" Crono asked.

Luca grinned. "With this!" the inventor responded, and revealed at last the object he kept hidden. The device looked like a metal flower. They studied the instrument for a time. Crafted with bluish metal, the tips ended similar to rose petals, and reminded Crono of his mother's garden back home. From the middle of the ruby petal-shaped components, a silver star shimmered. The blue handle measured about the length of a human hand. It obviously originated in their time, but Crono and Nadia had no idea how it worked. When dealing with Luca, nobody knew what to expect.

"What is that thing?" Nadia asked. "It's pretty!"

Luca proudly held it up, and by the look of pride in Luca's eyes Crono could tell Luca had recently created it. "Our ticket home," the inventor answered. "Behold!" He led them over to a patch of the forest where the glade appeared to emanate air waves. They discovered the source of the strange ripples when Luca pointed to the ground where a tiny blue sphere pulsed just above the grass. It resonated with small sparks of lightning in a glowing orb. A spherical tear in the fabric of reality, its eerie blue light reminded Crono of the portal's dizzying sensations. Crono bent down to touch the strange light, but his hand passed through and nothing happened.

"Sorry, Crono," Luca stated. "That won't work here." Luca held up his wand-like object and brought it closer, then pointed it at the blue light. He pressed a button, which shot a beam of white light out of the silver star like a lazer and struck the small glow. Instantly the time portal expanded and suspended above the earth, just as it had when the Telepod malfunctioned. But it appeared less frightening in the light of the open glade.

"Whoa, how did you do that?" Crono asked. He felt amazed that Luca could somehow control these strange portals and continue to build unexplainable devices.

"I call the portal a gate," he told them, and extended his arms to display his fabulous discovery. "And this little beauty in my hand I call the Gatekey." He brushed back a lock of his black hair. "The invention allows us to travel back and forth through the time portal. It's like a key that unlocks a gate, get it? Hence the name of Gatekey! I will hold it up for your viewing pleasure."

Crono crossed his arms in speculation. "So wait, where did this gate come from? I noticed the Telepod and Nadia's pendant opened the portal. But how exactly did it appear in the first place? What created it? And why did it send us to this particular time in Guardia's history?"

"I haven't figured those out myself, Crono," Luca admitted. "But they've been on my mind ever since we left the castle this morning. I can only surmise either the Telepod had something to do with it or the general direction of the machine's placement in the woods." He froze in thought. "Statistically, it could have been the result of Nadia's blue pendant, made from a material forged in the Middle Ages. The Telepod possibly mistook the metal for a direction not in the world but in a specific time."

"Luca, I'm convinced you're a genius." Nadia gazed at him with admiration. "I can't imagine how you think up these things. Now you can control unstable portals!"

Luca shrugged. "Well, don't place me on a pedestal yet. I can't control where we go or what time we select. I only know how to open the doors. It's not much. When the Telepod conjoins with . . ."

"Enough with the false modesty, Luca!" Nadia cut him off, and laughed. "You have a real gift! I would gladly trade my royal ancestry for your genius!"

Luca grinned. "If you say so."

Crono stepped forward, and the obsidian flow of the Mirrodin Cloak gleamed as the fiery edges flashed. "We should go home now. I don't want to stay here any longer."

Princess Nadia nodded. "All right. Lead us home, Luca."

The young inventor stepped forward, placed the Gatekey back in his pocket and faced his friends. His voice sounded serious as he spoke. "Everyone, I'm going to ask you to take each other's hands, step into the portal, and do not let go. Only three people have ever traveled through this portal, and that's us, yet we've never done it at the same time. I'm not exactly certain what could happen, but we have no other options. We can't divide the Gatekey. If one of us leaves, the others must follow. So we have to take this chance and go in faith that the portal will send us home. Step with me into the light."

Crono and Nadia took Luca's hands and slowly stepped into the swirling blue portal's shimmering light. Crono shut his eyes against its touch, and felt the sensations of time travel already pulsing as the portal immersed him. He sensed the world fall away beneath his feet. Everything rushed away in a vortex of azure and black. Colors and sounds disappeared as the passing wind echoed over four hundred years in a matter of seconds. With immeasurable speed, events transpired and the world's rotation seemed to fast forward as the three friends from another age remained unseen across the spinning centuries. They felt not as though they passed through a doorway, but as if they toppled off the edge of the planet. Fear whispered that the tumbling sensation in their hearts would abruptly end in death. They left behind the Middle Ages, descended into a spiraling swirl, and disappeared from the world as the doorway of time's beckoning light drew them closer to each other and home.

The Black Marshes, the unholy fire of the Dark Lord Magus, the Kelvenforge Mountains, Lionsden Pass, Guardia Castle, Toma Draconis, Captain Evanheart, Frog, King Guardia, Queen Leene, the village and the buildings, the places and the people, everything of the Middle Ages rushed away in memories that skipped across the flow of time. Cascading and unbound through time's blue light, they passed beyond a montage of images that swirled and shifted like waves on the sea. All three of them had braved the dangers of time travel before, but flying through together became a new experience. The passage beyond this doorway would either aid or forsake them.

Crono felt as if his soul left his body. The sharp howl of a sudden wind emphatically whispered in his ears. Voices called and chills rushed over him. Even through the Mirrodin Cloak, the portal initially felt cold. But as he soared the atmosphere grew warmer. He opened his eyes and looked back at the distant shimmering view of the clearing in the Middle Ages.

Somehow through the swirling void, Crono noticed a pair of lavender eyes clamp their demonic gaze upon him, and chill his flesh with their judgment. He wanted to verbalize what he saw, but he didn't know if any words came out, and couldn't identify the sight as real or not. Instinctively he gazed at Luca, whose eyes remained closed. Then he heard a dark voice erupt with chilling laughter. Across the corridors of time, it echoed as if it knew all the pieces to the riddles. The eternal blackness deepened. Shadows lengthened into dark pools that drained away the light as the three allies sped forward and the eyes and voice of Magus faded back into time.

The vast emptiness began to break apart and form pieces of familiar sights and sounds. The images beckoned the three friends onward. Together they forcefully shot out of the portal, hit the ground on their backs, and stared upward. They brushed away streaks of dirt and then straightened their clothes as they composed themselves. But suddenly they realized that all around them existed only blackness.

"This can't be right," Luca said as he sat up. But as he did, the other two stretched their legs and began struggling for release. Crono accidentally struck Luca in the face and broke his glasses, but the too-anxious inventor forgot to yell at him. After Crono and Nadia managed to untangle each other, they pushed up on a crunchy blue sheet and discovered they had collided under a covering of tarp. Dumbfounded, Luca shook his head, pulled the tarp off and grinned as all three of them stared out. They first noticed two pods on the left and right sides of a platform on which they sat and a vibrant gathering of balloons that soared high into the heavens.

They breathed in relief as they heard the chime of Leene's Bell. They had landed at the time of the Millennial Festival.


	17. Chapter 17

Chapter XVII—Hero to Zero

A warm blanket of gold fell across the Land of Guardia, and gently cloaked the sea in a radiating halo. Across the heavens, clouds drifted like smokey ships that sailed on the wind. Leene's Bell chimed in the distance, and rang throughout the festival. With it, a series of balloons released into the sky, and marked the dawn of a new day and new year. The festival appeared as a vibrant canvas under the skyline as it bustled with color and brightness that surpassed the hues of a post-thunderstorm rainbow. A strong gust of afternoon wind thrust the great balloons into the sky as cheers echoed from onlookers below. With that, the celebration commenced.

"We're back!" Luca announced as he rose to his feet. "Finally, the year 1000 A.D." As Crono wiped the dust from his robes, he noted the Mirrodin Cloak remained completely clean.

With the bleakness of the Middle Ages dead and gone, the trio gazed outward to admire anew their cherished home and enjoyed the melody of Leene's Bell as it sounded across the Town Square. Black mist did not cloud Guardia. The sun shone with dazzling light above the land, and for the first time in many days they could see the sky.

Luca offered his hand and helped Nadia to stand. Then he brushed himself off and replaced his glasses. When he did so, one of the lenses fell out, and he discovered the metal frames that bridged the nose had bent out of shape. "Well, that's just jingles. My glasses broke. Thanks a lot, Crono. I love being unable to see." He sighed, removed the glasses, and placed them into his pocket.

A disgusted look crossed his face. "No matter. I'll just fix these also when I get home." He glanced at the princess. "Sorry you had to go through all that, Nadia."

She laughed. "Are you kidding? I had the most fun ever! And I made some new friends!"

Luca slowly shook his head in dismay. "You found that distressful camping trip fun? I would have just stayed home in bed because I doubt my dreams would have included traveling with a frogman."

Nadia tilted her head in confusion. "Frogman?"

"It's a long story," Crono stated. "I'll tell you about it sometime."

"Well, how about now?" Nadia pressed. "You will walk me home, right? That would be quite gentlemanly of you."

Crono nodded yes. "I'd feel honored. Someone's gotta protect the princess!"

Nadia rolled her eyes. "I think the frogmen have infected your brain." She paused. "Would you two care to come for dinner at the castle later tonight? I would love for you to meet my family!"

Luca stepped forward. "That sounds great. I bet the food at the castle rocks. You up for that, Crono?" After Crono nodded, Luca grinned. "Rhetorical question. I know you're up for it. You don't have a life." Luca glanced at his watch, then seemed mildly alarmed. "Well, I'm afraid I can't join you two on your lovely afternoon stroll. I need to catch up on a bunch of stuff. Facilitating and accelerating the pursuit of revolutionary science for the convenience of all mankind. You know, the usual. I'll stop by your house when I have time, Crono. Then we'll head up to the castle and join Nadia for dinner."

"Sounds like a plan."

Luca's eyes narrowed. "First I'll fix my glasses."

"Great!" Nadia exclaimed. "I'll see you later tonight, Luca. Good luck in your tests, and experiments, and whatever else you're doing!"

Crono scoffed. "Experiments? Yeah, right. He's just going to go home, scarf down some snacks and fall asleep."

Luca looked appalled. "Well, I'm certainly not going to stand here and take your abuse."

Nadia smiled. "Well then, have a seat."

"Touché, my lady," Luca replied. "Those lowball insults will develop you into a fine commoner. I'm convinced you two mesh perfectly. In any case, I hear my snacks calling, so I'll see you two later. Off for home!" Luca waved goodbye and strutted off as Crono and Nadia watched him disappear southward down the mountain trail.

Then Nadia reached out her arm to Crono. "Sir Zenan, please escort this fair lady home."

He gently took her arm. "Let's be off."

They headed toward Nadia's home, descended the tree-bordered pass, and strolled through the bustling fair and around its great colorful tents. The warm sunlight felt good on their faces. Crono and Nadia followed the roadway, open fields and park pavilions that appeared welcoming and spring-green against the skyline. A game attendant at the traditional test of strength loudly challenged Crono to take the hammer and cause the striker to fly up and make the bell ring. East of them, a small oval racetrack had been chiseled out of the meadow, and they leaned against its railing to watch four odd-looking runners dash through an obstacle course. After the race, as the participants cooled off, Crono and Nadia took turns matching up each athlete with its name on the scoreboard: Steel Runner, an armored knight, Green Ambler, a little mystic, Catalack, a tame orange cat, and G.I. Jogger, a uniformed soldier.

"It would be nice if one of those portals could transport us home so we don't have to walk!" Nadia stated as they strolled.

"I wish the portals worked that way, too."

Nadia frowned. "Speaking of the portals, does anything feel different to you, Crono? We may have changed something on coming back."

Crono pondered her question for a time, then shrugged. "I don't feel any different. Everything looks the same as when we left. Oh great, that means _he_ hasn't changed, either."

"Ahoy there, Crono!" Old Man Melchior waved as the two passed the hickory tree, which sat surrounded by the man's usual cloud of smoke.

"Hey gramps, what's up?" Crono asked as he and Nadia approached.

The old man's eyes darkened. "Yer time to live will be up if ye don't show some respect!" the old man irritably warned.

"Yeah, you haven't changed a bit. That's for sure. I noticed your merchandise all wrapped up. You closing shop?"

The old man sadly nodded. "I am, lad. I ain't seen good business here fer weeks. It's time fer me to go back home to me own village in Medina."

Nadia looked confused. "You live in Medina? You mean on the eastern isles? Don't they hate humans?"

Melchior nodded and seemed secretly amused about something. "Aye, that they do, dear lass. But they've gradually grown accustomed to me over the years. And if they got a problem, they can come to my house and take their best shot. The door's always open."

Crono scratched his head. "That's probably not a good idea on their part. Don't you find it tough to live out there by yourself? Some pretty racist mystics live in Medina. You sure you'll be all right?"

Melchior thought a moment and removed his corncob pipe from his mouth. "What's this ye be tryin' to butter me up fer, boy? Ye still want a weapon of mine? Too bad, ye'll never get one! Not from me, no how!" He stared off towards the sea, and suddenly calmed down as his mind wandered. "Aye, Medina. The land whose trees shake with blue and purple leaves. Tis truly a beautiful place. The mystics openly detest my presence, of course, but I live far away on the western shore, similar to yer home, Crono. But I be tryin' to put an end to all that hateful rubbish with the mystics. If they cannot learn to accept humans peacefully, I am never going to relocate!" He glanced up at Crono, and shook his head. "Now run along before I start liking ye again. I'd hate to agree to adopt ye as an apprentice and regret it the rest of me life. Me ship will arrive tomorrow so I must get back to work. If ye two ever come to Medina, yer welcome to visit. Remember, I live on the western shore. If I know ye half as well as I think, boy, you'll stop by one of these days for tea."

Crono grinned. Melchior would train him one day. He could feel it. "You're not very good at pretending you're a grumpy old man, Melchior. I knew you'd want me to visit. Who else will you threaten everyday?"

Nadia's eyes brightened. "Have fun on the ship, Melchior."

The old man patted the bark of the hickory tree. "Aye, I'm gonna miss this tree here. Been here for weeks, enjoying the shade on this old quilt."

"Rumors fly about you everywhere these days," Crono stated. "You should really leave this tree more often. Seek help."

Melchior chuckled. "Lad, I always considered ye my favorite. That's why I'm going to kill ye last. Now go on, get yerself off me property."

Crono and Nadia departed the old man's "property" and walked up a small hill where they beheld a clear view of the Millennial Festival, which scuttled with activity behind them.

"Truce Village seems exactly the same," Crono quietly declared and glanced off into the fields of Havenseld. The bulk of the town appeared as black squares on the southern horizon.

"I can see my house from here, the same blue home with no neighbors. What Luca said seems true: Everything's back to normal. Humans won the war."

They changed their course north from the roadway, and headed towards the dense tangle of Darkwood Forest. They expected no trouble as they traversed the green pastures of Havenseld, and neared the forest's doorstep. Both travelers felt reassured by the absence of beasts that could not compare to the horrid creatures of the past.

"I'm just happy to continue my life before Luca decides to ruin it again," Crono stated.

As they strolled towards Guardia Castle and passed small streams and towering trees, Nadia talked incessantly about everything that came to mind. She commented on the good weather, the adorable little bunnies that hopped along the grass, the beauty of the flowers she noticed in patches of the land. Crono did not speak as they walked, though he too admired the flowers along the roadway and birds that sang atop the branches of the great forest. He felt much cooler and relaxed under the trees, and understood why Old Man Melchior practically lived in the shade.

"So are you going to tell me about the frogman or what?" Nadia asked after a time.

Crono's hand softly fell across the invisible handle of the Lunaria Blade, and felt its magic radiate from that gentle touch. "I almost forgot about that." He took a deep breath, then related all that happened since Nadia disappeared in the queen's chamber, and recited every event before she woke up again. Then he described Frog's appearance and speech and how he saved Crono and Luca.

Nadia froze. "How frightening. I can't find the words to thank you and Luca."

The forest deepened into gentle rolling hills, and a stretch of woodland shadows marked the land and clearings beyond. Sunlight speared through breaks in the trees, and gleamed across the dark leaves and rivers. They crossed a small bridge above a stream and passed onto another road where merchants headed for jobs in the castle and local villages. Some vendors traveled by foot and carried bundles on their backs. Others pushed carts or rode on wagons behind horses. But all of them seemed to stare and gasp at Crono. They whispered among themselves and quickly veered away when Crono neared. The word "dangerous" could be heard. Crono watched them as they conversed and glanced his way, and he suspected they spoke of him. Nobody returned his greetings. These men and women Crono knew all his life, but along with the familiarity in their eyes, he now also noticed fear.

"Whoa, stay away from me!" a man feebly cried when he recognized Crono near him. The speaker lifted his arms in surrender, and walked backwards. "I don't want any trouble! Please!"

"Calm down," Crono said and extended his hand in peace. "What are you talking about? I'm not going to hurt you." The merchant simply kicked rocks at Crono and fled into the woods, and left Crono and Nadia staring in wonder.

The princess worriedly glanced at Crono with distant sapphire eyes. "Something's not right."

"Why do they act this way?" Crono asked.

Nadia sadly shook her head. "They look at you like you're some kind of monster."

"Luca's checking into it," Crono quickly added. "He'll discover anything bad that might have happened or changed on our return. Let's just get you home for now."

They scaled the hills and emerged from the woods. The long trek proved clear and filled with sunlight, the opposite of Crono's mind. Nadia's earlier concerns that something changed in the land remained with him as he traveled. He and Luca did nothing but modify Queen Leene's rescue. They stayed alive, restored the space-time continuum, and humans defeated the mystics. But why did Guardia's countrymen look upon Crono in fear? He and Nadia passed out of the shadows of Darkwood, and caught sight of Nadia's imperial home looming before them.

The polished gray castle shimmered in the afternoon sunlight and overshadowed the heights of the knotted forest that formed its doorstep. A wide cobblestone pathway ascended towards the colossal fortress gateway. High above them, watchtowers and spires bordered the sweeping citadel, and their acutely pointed rooftops reminded Crono of giant wizard hats. Rose gardens freckled the encompassing green fields around the causeway. Even after four hundred long years, Guardia Castle stood as mighty and beautiful as a stone-scaled dragon. Like fiery breath, the far-flung crimson flags of the lion waved in an eastern wind. Crono touched the brooch of the Mirrodin Cloak and felt honored to behold the palace grounds.

"Behave yourself when we go in, Crono," Nadia told him. "My father's a very strict man. He likes military people. I don't know why, so don't ask me."

Crono snapped to attention, clicked his boot heels together and placed a hand on his forehead in salute. "Yes, ma'am!"

They proceeded up the roadway towards the looming wooden castle entrance, where Nadia stated her name and asked the soldiers to unlock the great doors. In the open gateway, Crono and Nadia noticed two guardsmen who stood next to a man with long blonde hair and brown eyes. Even in the faint torchlight, his silver chainmail brilliantly gleamed and fell to his slender waist. From his black cloak shone the gold insignia of the lion. The men's neutral faces changed to shock as they watched the newcomers enter the castle.

"Princess Nadia!" the tall blonde exclaimed. "You're safe!"

"Of course, Arthur," she said and hugged him close. "I can take care of myself, brother." She pulled away and looked at her friend. "And Sir Crono here has been watching over me as well." Arthur sighed in relief and reached out his hand in greeting to Crono. The prince's smile wavered between respect and curiosity.

Crono shook his hand and bowed to him. "It's an honor to meet you, Prince Arthur. I never expected to meet you in person. Your swordplay always inspires me."

Arthur thankfully nodded. "Old Man Melchior proves a good teacher." He turned back to his little sister. "Forgive me my outburst, Nadia. Father had convinced himself a rogue in town kidnapped you. It seems his judgment has erred. Wouldn't be the first time."

Suddenly from behind, a guard forcefully clutched Crono by the arm. "And here's the kidnapper!"

Prince Arthur glared at the man, and towered above him in form as well as rank. "Stand down, soldier. Did you not hear the princess?"

The guard did not release Crono. "I apologize, your majesty. I'm afraid your thoughts mislead you. Have you not seen the wanted posters across the forests and villages?"

"Release him," Arthur commanded. "You have no authority to detain him."

But the guard remained stubborn as rock. "I'm sorry, your highness. This order comes from the king. A clear description of this red-haired man appears on the wanted posters, demanding his immediate capture. Your father sentenced him to death. I will show mercy by sparing him until we have an opportunity to consult with the king."

"How absurd!" Nadia shouted. "You can't just . . ."

"Well done, soldiers of Guardia!" stated a man who appeared from the corner of the adjacent hall. He had evidently listened to the conversation, and his voice rasped like a snake. "You have assisted in the capture of the felon who kidnapped the princess! Guards, seize the criminal at once!" The man's voice echoed down the halls. From the torchlit corridors, soldiers poured and charged to the castle entrance to detain Crono. They attempted to push him down to the stone floor. But Crono resisted arrest, dodged a knight and shoved him into the guards, who fell backwards. Crono instinctively grabbed two soldiers by their helmeted heads, banged them together and sent them both to the floors. He spun into the next ones with his fists. The guards hesitated after finding how fiercely he fought and nimbly he maneuvered. But one guard quickly socked Crono in the gut, knocked him to the floor and held him down.

"What are you doing?" Nadia screamed and furiously kicked the guards. "Get off him! Crono is my friend! You will show him respect! Let him go!" On either side of Crono, two guards held him fast, and the other soldiers circled them.

Then Prince Arthur stepped forward with his sword and a glare so terrifying and cold it could extinguish the torches. "Soldiers of Guardia! I order you to stand down!"

Instantly the frightened men released Crono, though one still gripped him by the arm.

Then King Guardia himself parted the oak doors of the throne room and stepped into the hallway to stare down at the gathering. "Who makes all the commotion out here? What does this dispute regard?"

The man who had called for more guards inched over to the king and leaned in close. His raw-boned features and cold-blooded eyes foretold dark intentions as he quietly spoke with Lord Guardia. "My king, we found Nadia's kidnapper! She calls him friend, though I daresay he looks to be no friend to us. Look at the cloak he wears. See that? The mark of the red lion." A long pause ensued, and the old man wickedly grinned. "I note the familiarity in your eyes, my lord. That cloak signifies the highest and single most trusted possession a knight could possibly attain. How then did this felon come across it? For I seem not to recall him stationed among our ranks, and our military has no record of the Zenan family other than his father."

The king nodded in understanding. "The boy is a gifted thief. The evidence seems clear enough to condemn him." The King of Guardia straightened and approached Nadia. "My daughter, where have you been all this time with this boy?"

"He just . . . showed me around the Millennial Festival, that's all," she replied.

The chancellor narrowed his eyes. "For three days? Clearly, your highness, she won't tell the truth. Do you not follow the reasoning, my king? The sooner we hang that kid, the better. Lock him in the deepest, darkest dungeon you can find, and keep guardsmen there to watch his every move! Then after the sentence, kill him, my lord!"

The king shook his head. "Not yet, chancellor. Perhaps it might be better if we gave him a trial on the morrow."

The chancellor tensed and leaned forward. "The people of this land behave like nothing but bleeding hearts! Few agree with capital punishment, but I know that boy's guilty! If I did not heed the warnings of my heart on a daily basis, then I would surely not do my job as your advisor! You reign as king, highness. You hold the authority to end life! Rid this world of the boy before he causes any more trouble!"

The king sighed. "I can't do that, chancellor. Did you see the way my daughter looks at him? Did you not gaze into her eyes and discover her devotion to that boy? Clearly she cares for him and I will not willingly hurt my daughter."

The chancellor glared. "You won't be the one doing that, my king. The boy has already harmed her mind and will do so again, I assure you!"

The king paused and whispered to the old man. "You would not understand, my friend. You have no children of your own." He looked back at his daughter, and his voice rose. "The soldiers and chancellor will handle the rest, Nadia. Henceforth, be mindful of your place in the castle. Do not bother with the events in the village or their peasants." The king faced the group of guards stationed near the stairwell. "Soldiers, arrest this man. Lock him in a cell and keep him there until I decide on a rightful punishment."

The guards rushed forward, grabbed Crono, and shackled his hands.

"Stop it! Let him go." Nadia demanded and pulled on the shackles, but the guards peeled her away.

"It's no use, sister," Prince Arthur told her as he placed a hand on her shoulder. "I will talk to father."

The princess ignored him and instead lunged at one of the guards, though she stopped when she heard her father's angry voice.

"Princess Nadia, come here this instant!" His shout shook the air. "I've had it with your behavior. How dare you sneak off to the festival without an escort. And worse, you disobeyed my commands and endangered your life. Look what you've done. Your foolishness brought someone wicked into our lives!"

"What will you do to him?" Nadia asked. "This isn't right!"

The chancellor stepped forward. "Can you not follow such apparent logic? The boy flouted the decree to uphold the laws of peace, committed a theft against the castle and held a member of the royal family hostage. Clearly, he must be executed for his crimes."

"What?" Nadia cried in outrage. "But surely he will get a trial? Father, Crono deserves a trial! It will show his innocence."

The king nodded. "The boy shall receive the honor of a trial. But no more. Do not ask me for any more favors. I grant nothing beyond this one."

Before Nadia could respond, the king walked back into the throne room, and the old man closely followed behind. Nadia fought to hold back the tears that formed in her eyes as she trudged up to Crono. The guards parted and allowed her through.

"I'm so sorry, Crono," she whispered as tears streamed down her face. "I'm sorry we ever met." She then covered her face as she cried. The guards pulled the chained youth in the direction of the castle dungeons. Their iron grip felt rough against Crono's skin. Nadia noticed a hand on her slender shoulder and wiped the tears from her face. She glanced up to find her brother standing there. "I . . . I didn't notice you still here, Arthur." She sagged against him and tightly hugged him as the tears came again. "Arthur, this is my fault! I've sent Crono to his death!"

Arthur stroked her hair, soothed her, and shook his head in disagreement. "Do not worry for that boy, Nadia. Father will release him. I will personally see to it."

Nadia glanced up. "Father never changes his mind when he makes a decision. Do you really think he will this time?"

"I am certain," Arthur told his baby sister. "Just tell him what really happened and I'm sure he'll believe you."

When Nadia heard this, her tears fell anew. "No, they won't, Arthur. They won't believe the truth because I barely believe it."

Prince Arthur placed his arm around Nadia's shoulders and guided her to the east wing. "Come sister, let me escort you to your room. I'm sure you will feel better in the evening." But she knew she wouldn't, for Crono might not live to see that evening. Nobody could convince her father after he made up his mind. Crono had stared death in the face before, risen above countless trials to protect her, traveled through time and returned whole. But she did not think his luck would save him from this. Not from King Guardia's wrath. Dawn would rise and herald the death of Crono Zenan. She loved him so much, but wondered if she'd ever have the chance to let him know just how deeply that love ran.

Death's haunting whisper breathed through the corridor of her thoughts as she waited out the night.


	18. Chapter 18

Chapter XVIII—Judgment Day

Of all the places Crono Zenan expected to end up that day, the castle dungeon did not make the list. Of all places, he imagined seeing home first. Instead he would sit in a cold dank prison. Chains shackled him not only from freedom but also the princess he had risked so much to save. He loved Nadia so much he could barely voice the depth of it. He felt the icy bitter sting of the irons on his wrists as the soldiers led him from the citadel halls and towards the prison tower. The guards had forced him to ascend a seemingly endless succession of castle stairways that wound upward into the gloom. Faint sunlight streamed through barred windows high above them. After the knights opened a locked iron door, they came upon a fortified steel bridge that stretched across a wide chasm, which dropped hundreds of feet into darkness. Distant cliffs bordered the castle, and appeared as distant shadows. At the edge of the bridge loomed the sweeping black tower, as somber and forbidding as the gray sentinel figures that patrolled every doorway and corridor.

The guards kept their swords close as they wordlessly marched Crono onward. The dungeon lay in the depths of the tower beyond. Crono knew the legend: Those imprisoned there never return. The only way out led through the top of the tower and across the iron bridge that spanned the castle. Crono already felt the presence of countless soldiers that blended into the stone walls. In both the tower and barracks situated above the bridge, they maintained surveillance and security. Even if Crono managed to flee that far, he could not escape the castle unnoticed. He examined the iron-clad faces of the guards he passed and took note of his surroundings. He even probed the foundation for weaknesses but sadly did not find any.

Just one way out existed, but only a miracle could get him there. It would require an army to escape the underground cells beneath the tower, ascend back to the top, cross the bridge without plummeting into death below, and then flee the castle. Death stalked the halls of the cold black tower. Once he entered his cell, he did not think he would ever come out again. The soldiers crossed the bridge to the tower where his cell waited and took him down countless steps that spiraled beneath the earth's surface.

Crono felt prisoners studying him in the darkness. The stone hallways and barred cells felt rife with something more oppressive than shadows and cold. A sense of torment reflected in the downhearted gaze of men he once knew in freedom. In their eyes he glimpsed a fierce and unyielding desire to take back what the guards stole from them. Crono recognized some of these prisoners, and wondered at the justice of the death sentence imposed on them. Perhaps they landed here for a reason as innocent as his own.

But he recognized something worse as the guards stopped him and searched him for weapons in the dungeon hall. Crono thought a prisoner in the back of a cell looked familiar in the torchlight, and he gazed closer to behold dirty blonde hair, a tattered poncho and lank features. All at once he distinguished the figure as an unconscious Fritz Ledger shackled to the gray shadowed walls.

"No," Crono whispered. "Fritz."

Immediately one of the guards struck Crono in the back of the head, and Crono's friend did not hear him as the soldiers again marched their prisoner ahead. Crono suddenly wondered if he would escape this place and live to see the dawn. If he could bring the impossible to pass and escape what no one could before, he knew he would set these men free as well. His heart told him if he could survive the Middle Ages, he could definitely outlast the trials that awaited him in his own time.

The soldiers led him to a dank empty cell, which smelled of dust and decay. Water dripped from its walls, and Crono noticed yellow-eyed rats hunched against the far wall. They scattered at his approach.

The guards opened the cell door, shoved Crono inside and left behind five soldiers who sat outside in the dungeon halls and the light of a couple of torches. In this windowless black square, Crono could no longer make out any beauty in the light beyond. But the barred chamber did not compare to the prison in his mind. His thoughts remained bound by riddles and the belief he made a fatal turn in his life. Only from beyond the split bars of his cell could he view the world as he studied the movements of the guards. The penetrating cold and shadows of the stone tower closed in around him. He sat on a crooked wooden chair and gazed down at his reflection in a puddle of water. Torchlight sharply etched his grim and battered features. He recognized the anger and hatred that stirred in his eyes. That same savage grimace appeared when his father died in his arms.

Already he fast became the maddened beast the guards expected as he craved freedom just beyond his reach. The soldiers had disarmed him of his weapons and most of his clothes, and left him only his black pants and belt. Crono knew he would receive no sympathy from his captors or their king, but he still clung to the promise of a trial beginning at sunrise. How ironic the outcome of time led him to protect the lives of the very people that now condemned him. A sorry fate had fallen across the shoulders of a man once viewed as a hero not a day before in the Middle Ages. Why would time goad him to renew history, allow him to save the royal family and Princess Nadia, lead him to heal the destroyed land, but then betray him? His actions changed the outcome of the war and saved these people. Time, the sharpest blade of all, cut its enemies asunder but backfired on the one who wielded that blade.

Crono's last hope rested on the compassion of the judge and reasoning of the jury. At least Nadia's arguments granted him a trial, but that brief respite would not long change the mind of King Guardia, who obviously mistrusted him and wanted him dead. Maybe Luca would rescue him before then. His best friend knew complex security breaches, and possessed enough resources to devise the most elaborate escape attempts no one thought possible. Crono's detainment would not last long once word reached Luca.

The red-haired prisoner thought of escape all that time as eyes watched him, stone held him, and hazy red torchlight burned like devil eyes in the gloom. For long hours, he sat there and reflected on everything that led him to this fate. Get out of this place! His instincts screamed as he sat alone in the silence, and remained as unmoving and unfeeling as the surrounding stone. They're going to kill you if you don't escape! Fight back! But just how would he do that? The questions of his mind, desires of his heart, and commands of his primal instinct raged like a war in his body as he awaited his trial. Crono sensed that no matter what arguments he presented, no matter what he told the jury or what Nadia claimed, he would be killed.

In the dungeon lit faintly by a small glow of torchlight, Crono remembered being tied to the stake in the Middle Ages. He had become so empty inside then that the fire in his soul completely extinguished. That same hopelessness lingered with him now. Here, rats nipped at his feet and hissed at his intrusion into their dark domain, but he made no effort to cast them away. He never felt more alone in his life. You are a lion, Crono, the words of his father echoed in his mind. Your heart is the kingdom that never dies. But in this hour, the hero of the Middle Ages could not fight back. This day he could do nothing. He leaned interminably against the wall, stared into the darkness, and slept without even realizing it. Then a rough hand shook him awake. "The time has come." The trial would soon begin.

"Would everyone please take their seats," the judge asked. Early morning light dribbled through the courtroom windows, and gleamed across the blue and black checkered floor. "This trial will begin shortly."

Crono stood on a red dais where people from all over Guardia viewed him. The drone of the chamber echoed every speaker's smallest word. In the middle of the large room sat a polished wood table, and a narrow carpeted aisle split the chairs of the jury several feet behind Crono's judgment seat. Maybe a hundred onlookers quietly sat in a semicircle on elevated benches that bordered the room. Behind the judge's stand, the golden crest of Guardia and two red flags glimmered faintly in the sunlight. A huge stained-glass window at the front of the courtroom boasted the image of Lord Cyrus. In a tall chair at the front of this window sat the judge. To his right, the irksome chancellor regarded the room with shifty eyes. Crono noticed his mother in one of the stands. Fear and concern reflected in her face as she gazed at him in dismay.

Hopelessness struck Crono again. How could he tell this court the truth? How could he expect anyone to believe the truth? And then, if they did believe him, what would they do? Impound the Telepod? Imprison Luca? Would they destroy the machine out of fear? Or would they employ it without any understanding of upsetting the space-time continuum? Crono couldn't chance any of these.

"Members of the court," the judge announced. "Before you stands," he stopped to squint and look at his notes, "Crono Zenan, officially charged with premeditated abduction of Princess Nadia with the intention of overthrowing and usurping the sovereign throne of Guardia." Crono sighed and shook his head in disbelief. Obviously the chancellor wrote those notes. "Will the attorneys please state their names?"

The chancellor stepped forward, and his cold snakelike voice and beady eyes looked appropriate for his skinny form. "I will act as prosecutor against Crono Zenan."

"And I will serve as Crono's lawyer." A slender man announced as he stepped forward to his client with a pristine smile, and extended his hand. He possessed kind brown eyes, and wore elegant green robes and a fine orange vest. "Pleased to meet you, Crono. The name is Pierre. Your mother hired me on your behalf and sends her regards. I'll act as your lawyer today."

Crono nodded and forced a smile. "Thank you."

Pierre returned to the far side of the room and waited for further command.

The judge continued. "This trial will now commence. You, the jury, shall decide this man's fate. So I ask all of you to listen carefully and reach a verdict by the end of this session. And you, Crono Zenan, will be expected to tell the truth. Swear it on all you hold dear."

Crono raised his right hand. "I swear on my father's grave, I will tell the truth."

The judge nodded in satisfaction and leaned back to watch as the chancellor slowly approached Crono. The youth resisted punching this creep in his lying mouth for putting him in this mess, but he kept his temper in check as he stared down the old man.

The chancellor's vile eyes recognized Crono's tension, and a provoking grin formed on his lanky face. "What shall we do with this young man? His guilt shines clear, beyond a shadow of a doubt." With each passing word, the chancellor's pitch grew in intensity and volume, and his tone became cryptic and sinister. "This kingdom has not seen a darker, more vile menace than the dreaded Dark Lord himself! Do not forget the lessons of history, my friends! The Evil One kidnapped a queen long ago, and this young man acts no differently! So what does Guardia do to the wretched? Despicable fiends!" Crono badly wanted to tell him to just make his damn point. The chancellor turned to face the audience. "Fire perhaps? We have not watched anyone burn since the days of witches! Perhaps we should bring back the old ways for old evil. Or mayhaps we hang him upside down for a year and leave his body for the crows! Fitting, don't you think, for a low-dwelling scoundrel?" He traversed the room. "Or lest we forget the guillotine! I imagine the blade has grown a bit rusty over the years, but all the better for this menace!" He glanced back at the defendant, and wickedly smirked as he sensed he said quite enough. "Crono. How exactly did you and the princess meet? Where did all this begin?"

"I accidentally bumped into her at the fair," Crono replied. "On my way to one of the events at the fairgrounds the day we met."

The chancellor considered Crono's words for a moment, then clasped his arms behind his back as he turned away from the youth. "How interesting. And what happened after that encounter?"

Crono straightened. "She asked me to show her around the Millennial Festival. She claimed to be new in Guardia."

The chancellor narrowed his eyes, and glared at Crono almost threateningly. "And you did not at all recognize her as the Princess of Guardia?"

Crono shook his head no. "I did not, sir."

The old man directed his eyes at Crono like a hawk that assessed its prey. "And Nadia told you nothing. You're expecting us to believe this?"

Crono nodded yes. "Every word's true, sir. She told me nothing except her name. I even asked where she came from, and she admitted to living in Truce Village, so I regarded her as a commoner."

The prosecuting chancellor thoughtfully glanced at Crono, and the old man's eyes narrowed again. "Then riddle me this, boy. Did you bump into the princess or did she bump into you?"

Crono uncertainly hesitated. "I bumped into her." He shook his head as if to clear it, and his eyes inspected the checkered floor as he thought back on the memories of that day. "I didn't pay attention to where I headed, and we accidentally met under Leene's Bell. I take the blame for our meeting."

The chancellor smiled in satisfaction, then turned to face the crowd. "So then, the defendant admits he deliberately wanted to get close to the Princess of Guardia."

Crono stared at the chancellor in outrage. "No sir, I was . . ."

"Speak only after a question!" the judge irritably snapped and glared at the youth's outburst.

The chancellor's cold eyes twinkled. "Thank you, your honor. Show these criminals how to behave humbly." He pointed one skinny finger at the defendant. He seemed so small and frail under Crono's shadow, but remained dark and persuasive as he spoke. "Crono, have you ever stolen anything?"

Crono paused. "No."

The wicked chancellor cackled, and his low raspy voice filled with sick pleasure as he turned to face the jury. "So the boy lies, too." He gestured at someone who stood in the doorway. An old man stepped into the room with a blank look etched on his face. "Crono, do you recognize this man?"

Crono stared at the man for a time. "No."

The chancellor grinned. "Well, this man certainly recognizes you."

"That's correct," said the stranger. "I know of this man. I left my lunch on the ground and went to watch the races at the fair. When I returned, Crono had stolen my lunch and run away with the princess."

The judge frowned in speculation. "Have you proof of this theft, elder?"

"I'm just coming to that, your honor," the chancellor quickly interjected as he held up Crono's azure blue robe. "Do you recognize this garment, Crono Zenan?"

"Of course," Crono replied. "That's my father's robe. I always wear it." Then suddenly the chancellor pulled out from inside the robe an old sandwich and showed it to the man, whose eyes widened. "That's my sandwich! That boy steals, I tell you!"

A brief murmur of agreement echoed from the audience. Crono dropped his head as he realized this did not go well. Even the judge nodded in satisfaction.

The lawyer Pierre stepped forward. "Objection, your honor. The accusation against Crono regards the kidnapping of the princess. This has no relevance to the trial."

"Crono's moral values, or rather his lack of them, sinks to the very core of this case." The chancellor lifted one boney finger. "I might also point out, on the day of Crono's capture, we discovered him wearing a cloak that bears the mark of the red lion." The old man held up a sheaf of papers. "We have documented evidence that Crono Zenan never signed up to be a soldier of Guardia, and therefore we know he stole not only the lunch of an elderly man but the cloak of a great knight. Clearly he is a thief." The chancellor turned toward the judge as he listened to the crowd murmuring. "I have one more witness, your honor."

The judge nodded. "Proceed."

The excited chancellor quickly dismissed the old man and brought in another person much younger than the last witness. "My boy." The chancellor gestured to the young man Crono recognized as the bully from the festival. "Tell them what Crono did to you."

"All right," the bully said and took a deep breath. "Crono beat me up at the festival and stole one of my knives. He must have needed it to threaten and kidnap the princess."

The chancellor grinned in satisfaction. "Thank you, young man. You may take your leave." The boy quickly left the room. Then the chancellor paused as he let the information sink into the jury's minds. "The prosecution rests. That is all."

Crono's lawyer stepped forward. "If you would like to assault the moral values of my client, I think you should pay attention now. I have a witness here today who will fully testify to Crono's kindness. You can come in now, sweetie." A small child stepped into the room. When Crono saw her, he sighed in relief. "Go ahead and tell them what this boy did for you," Pierre urged the little girl.

She pointed at Crono, and smiled. "This nice man lifted my kitty down from a tree. He and the princess saved my kitty!" Murmurs echoed from the crowd and Crono desperately hoped the doughy blue eyes of the cute little girl would suffice to free him from this mess. The attorney dismissed the girl and she merrily scampered away.

"Now doesn't he deserve a medal, folks?" the lawyer asked the crowd. Then he motioned to someone else in the room to come forward. The young boy Crono helped protect from the bully inched forward with his head directed at the floor. "Please tell the jury what the defendant did for you," the lawyer urged the boy.

He looked up at the crowd. "That older kid you heard a minute ago, he attacked me at the fair over nothing. Crono beat him up, but he did it to protect me. If you haven't noticed, that guy stood twice Crono's size, and it took a lot of courage to fight him."

The lawyer nodded at the boy in satisfaction. "You may go now. The defense rests." Pierre returned to the side of the room and the judge glanced at the chancellor.

"Prosecutor, your closing arguments?"

The chancellor quickly took advantage. "These tricks want you to believe lies! Citizens informed me that when Crono and Nadia went to view an invention, they both disappeared. If that doesn't define criminal abduction, I don't know what does.

I find it quite obvious Crono always intended to abduct the Princess of Guardia. If we are to . . ."

Someone suddenly cut him off. A scream erupted outside the courtroom doors, and froze everyone into silence. "Let me in!" A moment later Nadia burst in and angrily faced the crowd. "Stop this madness at once!" she demanded as she strode up to Crono. "Did not one of you think to ask me what happened? Of all the people here, you didn't stop to consider I might know if this man kidnapped me? Are you people blind?" She leaned forward, and her words matched the fire in her eyes. "I stand before you today to tell you he is not a criminal! Crono is innocent!"

The chancellor glowered and watched as the crowd's earlier expressions changed to looks of curiosity as they glanced at the red-haired youth. "Princess Nadia, your behavior is out of line!"

But Nadia returned his venomous glance tenfold. "No! Shut up right now, you old fool! Your behavior is out of line. Crono had made a friend of me and everyone else." She turned to face the crowd. "How many times has Crono rid the land of orcs and imps, I wonder? How much more integrity and courage has he shown than our own soldiers of Guardia?" Nadia slowly glanced at the members of the audience. "Every one of you knows him as someone with a dream of becoming a knight who would gladly lay down his life for your freedom! He certainly . . ."

"You dare mock this sacred institution of justice?" the angry chancellor interrupted. He raved like an enraged beast, and pointed at Crono with a finger as sharp as the blade of a knife. "I have proved by my witness, beyond a reasonable doubt, that he assaulted, robbed, kidnapped and seduced Nadia! All with the malicious desire to overthrow the Kingdom of Guardia, and yet you still deny it? You cannot hide, young man! The truth will find you!" The chancellor bolted forward and faced the crowd. "Crono Zenan infests our fair society with his cancer. I beseech you all on behalf of this land to convict him to death! If we let him roam free, we will watch the fabric of our society unravel! Our children will not be safe! Chaos and anarchy will run rampant in the streets! This palace will turn to nothing but rubble! And who will stand atop that rubble? I tell you . . ."

"You're out of your mind!" Nadia yelled. "You know little of the people and even less about Crono. I for one have spent time with both. You never leave these walls!"

The chancellor took a deep breath, fixed his cold eyes on Nadia and smirked. "Okay, Princess Nadia. If true, then how did you and Crono spend the last three days?" A long moment of silence ensued as Nadia's face turned from concentrated thought to resignation. The chancellor grinned. "The princess seems rather reluctant to tell us where she went and what she did with the defendant. What do you think she's hiding?"

Nadia sighed. "Look, we ended up where we did because of an accident, all right? Crono rescued me and that's all you need to know!"

The chancellor's eyes widened. "Oh really? From what, pray tell? Himself?"

"He saved my life!"

At that moment, the King of Guardia stormed into the courtroom. "Princess Nadia! I told you not to interfere with this!" His enraged voice shook the air as he stomped up to his daughter and raised his hand to strike her. But Crono immediately jumped from the judgment dais and cast aside the king's blow with his shackled hands.

"Don't you ever hurt her!" Crono warned. The audience audibly gasped at the sheer fearlessness of Crono's affront as the courtroom descended into silence. The king staggered back in disbelief as his eyes fixed onto Crono.

"Father, you can't let them do this!" Nadia stepped between them.

The king took a moment to recover from Crono's deflection. He shook his head in dismay, then sighed. "If they do kill him, the business belongs to them, not you. The trial does not concern you."

The chancellor gazed at the jury. "You see? A man so bold as to assault the king. You have my say in the matter."

Then a man tapped the judge on the shoulder, and handed him a folded piece of paper. The judge stood up and drew all eyes back to him. "Excuse me, your majesties. But the jury has reached a verdict. If I may proceed?"

"What?" Pierre asked suddenly. "What about my closing argument?"

"Be silent," the king ordered and icily glared. "What is the verdict?"

The judge slowly opened the piece of paper. No one in the room made a sound.

"Crono Zenan is . . . guilty," the judge grimly stated and with raised eyebrows, as if he expected differently. "Sentenced to be executed by the guillotine in three days."

"Take him away then!" ordered the king.

Four guards rushed forward to grab Crono, and tried to usher him away. Nadia pushed aside the guards and rushed forward to kiss Crono on the lips. "I love you, Crono!" Her hands traveled over his face as she kissed him like she needed it to breathe. "I've loved you since the day we met! I won't let you go." Everyone gawked, but Nadia's kiss lasted only a moment before the king wrenched Nadia's arm, and yanked her away from the criminal. She despondently watched as the guards shoved Crono, and led him back toward the prison tower.

"Father, Crono hasn't done anything wrong!"

"I've heard enough of this," the king shouted and glared at Nadia with an unfamiliar icy look. His eyes reflected the same inner madness as the chancellor's. "Crono will die in three days! You cannot change that!" He glanced at the spare men stationed at the walls. "Guards, escort my daughter to her room. Make sure she stays there and causes no further trouble."

With that, the king departed the courtroom, slammed the doors behind him and shook the building. Nadia slowly sunk to the floor, and stayed there a short time before the guards lifted her up and led her out. The jury dispersed with shaking heads and downcast eyes. Crono's mother left the room with the vacant stare of a dead woman. She and Nadia felt the same pain. Rhea would lose her only son now, with nothing she or Nadia could do.

Tears of guilt fell from Nadia's eyes as a wave of pain washed over her. She should have never gone to Truce Village. The guards' footsteps echoed into the distance as Nadia hopelessly stared in her prison bedroom and heard the door lock from the outside. She could do nothing as time's cruel misfortunes betrayed the one who could change its course. But she forgot one small detail of fading hope. Luca Devir still freely roamed Guardia.


	19. Chapter 19

Chapter XIX—Heroes Never Die

Crono Zenan recalled all that had transpired the week before, and recounted the events since his return home from the past. He sighed and peered down at the bonds that reminded him once more of his fate as the soldiers led him back to the prison towers. They departed the courtroom doors, trekked the lonely torchlit halls of Guardia Castle, ascended a winding stairwell, and crossed the bridge, which spanned a chasm that dropped hundreds of feet below them. Dawn lit the mountains beyond in vibrant hues of lavender and blue, and colors seemed to melt like candle wax from the faintly starred heavens. Wind blew as cold and harsh as the looming stone tower of Crono's prison. Somehow his former life seemed a faraway memory. And here he marched with shackled hands to the dungeons. The very people he had saved within time's flow now condemned him, and the three-day countdown of his death began. From above the dark-clouded sky, wind vengefully whipped at his frame, and stirred his red hair like dancing fire. He lowered his eyes to deflect the sharpness of the gusts, and gazed out to the mysterious Mountains of Kelvenforge. As he marveled at its scars, he took comfort in the view, and wished he could somehow find himself there instead of in this bleak prison. The soldiers' footsteps darkly echoed as Crono glanced at those that led him.

"Step lively, son!" demanded the chancellor. His voice held spite and condescension as he followed a pace behind the guards, and he poked Crono on the back with his cane to remind him.

Crono turned and glared. "That hurt, you old bastard!"

But the old man struck Crono again. "Silence, usurper! Keep in line or I shall do it again!" He bonked Crono on the head anyway.

Crono wanted to retaliate, but the guards pushed him forward. He growled and fixed his eyes on the tower. What a week this turned out to be, Crono thought once again. Strangely enough, he felt no regret about meeting Nadia. Though death may silence his heart, he carried in it something just as eternal—love. It echoed in his actions four hundred years ago, and rang across the centuries like the chime of Leene's Bell under which they met. The blue pendant fell, just as they did for each other, and neither expected a bond so deeply sought but rarely found. Nothing else compared to how she made him feel in the brief period they shared this week. He felt he would sacrifice anything for the dawn to become the giant blue portal of Luca's machine so that he might jump from the bridge, escape this fate, travel back in time, and relive those moments again.

They entered the prison tower after crossing the half-mile bridge, and descended a long flight of steps that branched into an office. A man whose tag named him supervisor sat at a desk with a sheaf of papers set in a neat stack before him. The chancellor harshly shoved Crono in front of him, and stepped forward himself as he tapped his cane on the desk.

"Sir." The supervisor stood and snapped to attention. "What can I do for you?"

The chancellor tugged on Crono's red hair. "This scoundrel kidnapped the princess. He has been tried and convicted of treason for attempting to overthrow the sacred throne."

"So this man did that," the supervisor said as he inspected Crono.

"I trust all preparations have been made," the chancellor added as he raised an eyebrow. "I expect you to carry out his sentence. Execution in three days. Do not let him out of your sight or you shall join him under the guillotine!"

The supervisor nodded. "Yes, sir! Understood. Anything else?"

The chancellor leered at Crono, and appeared much like a dark version of Melchior. The red-haired youth suddenly wished the old man from the fair would burst into the room and set him free.

"See to it the executioner himself stands guard near Crono's cell," the chancellor ordered the supervisor. "And be warned, soldier. Even in captivity, do not underestimate Crono. He has many allies, and you best remain alert for anyone acting strangely in this tower. If he escapes, or if you fail to kill him on the dawn of the third day, then I must consider you a cohort and you will both be killed. Do I make myself clear, soldier?"

The supervisor saluted him. "Yes, sir!"

"Good. Let me know when the blade of the guillotine has been honed. I shall inspect that before the execution."

"I will carry it out at once, sir," the supervisor reassured him as he hurried around the desk to stand before Crono.

"Guards, take this scum out of my sight. As I stated before, I think it practical to station at least five guards in his cell's hall. Dispatch the executioner, our second best fighter next to Prince Arthur, not far from the exit doors. Be on guard against the extraordinary. Remember my words, soldiers. He must not escape."

Torchlight flickered and wreathed the looming shadows of the soldiers as they approached. Then Crono felt something hard slam into the back of his head.

"Let's see here," Luca Devir said aloud to himself as he tried to figure how the blue portals worked. The discovery of time travel still vividly occupied his mind, and Luca refused to give up the puzzle without solving it. His eyes fixed on the scattered pieces of the Telepod. He had dismantled it on his return home to destroy the gates of time before anyone else discovered them. "The first test succeeded when Crono entered the machine. But the gateway unlocked when the Telepod's guiding light touched the material of Nadia's pendant. Sapphires . . ." He wearily rubbed his eyes, briefly stared out his window at the star-filled sky, then sighed as he drew another picture on a blank page in his sketchbook. The pictorial inquiries sometimes proved clearer than notes. He jotted down a vast array of possibilities and hoped it might lead him to the cause of the strange reaction.

He set down the pen and stared at his picture for a time as he rested his chin on his hands. "Did the machine create the gate, or did something else make it?" He leaned back in his chair, and directed his attention to the ceiling where planets of the solar system gleamed in the near darkness of his room. "Could more than one gate have existed? Could other stones unlock times in the past? Wait . . . maybe the gate always existed there and the directional beams of the teleportation sequence mistook Nadia's pendant for some kind of a . . ."

An abrupt knock at the door interrupted Luca's thoughts, and he heard his father yelling. Peeved at the disruption, the young inventor threw his backpack of tools across the room, where it slammed against the wall.

Luca's room appeared as though a tornado had passed through it. The boy worked his way around various piles of books and appliances made from random objects, and unlocked the door. Taban's face flushed as he rushed in and brandished a piece of paper.

"What's going on?"

"Take a look at this." Taban held up the paper.

As Luca read, he frowned: Crono's wanted poster.

"This can't be true, Luca," Taban exclaimed. "Please label this some kind of joke. "

Luca removed his glasses. "Pops, do you still have your newspaper subscription?"

Taban's face blanked. "Luca, did you hear me? Why would the king order Crono's death?"

Luca's eyes fell to the floor. "I don't know yet. But I want you to get the newspaper for me." Taban silently studied his son for a moment, then left. The young inventor slowly paced in what space he could find until his father returned with the paper. Luca snatched it away and scanned the text. A moment later, he found his answer. "I've made a drastic mistake on coming back." Taban looked confused. Luca gently set the paper down and paced the room again. Then he slapped a tabletop. "Cursed luck, I should have known! Why did I not see it earlier? We came back through the Telepod expecting to return to the same moment we first left."

Taban scratched his head. "Huh?" Taban watched Luca tread the room back and forth and speak nonsense.

"Look, Pops, the Guardia of this time and the Guardia of the Middle Ages exist on the same planar flow of time. The portal serves only as a doorway and sends travelers to the time period, not moments." He turned back and glanced at his calendar. He picked up his pen to circle dates and clarify his realization. "Okay, so Crono traveled back to save Nadia the night of January 1, 1000 A.D., 10:43 PM. But all three of us returned January 4, 12:36 in the afternoon, to the same place we left. But not the same time." He froze. "Three days passed in the Middle Ages and in this time without any of us realizing." His gaze grew wide, and he dropped his pen. "And the king knew his daughter went missing for three days, and assumed Crono abducted her."

Luca turned away from his calendar, and gazed at his father. "The soldiers must have caught Crono yesterday afternoon when he took Nadia home. The newspaper tells us they held his trial the day following his capture, but he's still locked in prison." Luca glanced out the window to look upon the dark forest that encompassed the entrance of King Guardia's castle. "He's been sentenced to death." Luca felt tears well in his eyes but quickly brushed them away. "He's going to be executed tomorrow."

Taban apprehensively stared. "Crono's innocent, right?"

Luca nodded yes. "I haven't figured out why the kingdom believes he's guilty. That doesn't make any sense. Clearly, someone in that castle wants Crono dead."

Taban took a deep breath. "Perhaps I should speak with the king."

Luca grabbed his equipment. "You don't have to do anything, Pops. It's too late for adults to be diplomatic about this. I'm going up there to save him. Tonight." Luca readjusted his pack, and slipped on one of his cloaks.

"Whoa now, son. Calm down a minute. What do you mean to do?"

Luca wolfishly grinned. "Before sunrise, I'm freeing Crono from that castle and returning to Truce Village. I'm not going to stand back and let them kill my best friend. No matter the cost of this attack, Crono will live."

"Be careful when you go up there, son," Taban replied. "If you need it, you and Crono can lie low in our underground storage shelter. And when you return, you can tell me where you've been for three days! I've been worried sick over your goofy butt! You pull that crap ever again and I'll pop your head like a zit!"

"It may take some doing, but I'm sure I can rescue Crono before his execution. Wish me luck, Pops."

Taban stepped forward and hugged his son. "I love you, kiddo. Come back soon."

Luca sadly smiled and remembered Crono's words the moment before the time portal whisked him away. "Not alone. Crono and I will both return."

Then Luca Devir draped his black cloak around his lean shoulders, pulled up his hood, and disappeared into the night.

"Leave him alone, you bastards!" Crono Zenan angrily roared and shook the iron bars that detained him as he watched two guards beat an old man apparently for no reason. "Don't touch him!" Earlier that same night they had whipped the poor man, and the dust of his cell coated the crimson gashes in his back. Crono winced with every shrill scream that echoed through the depths of the tower. Under the king's laws, the fate of inmates on death row remained in the hands of the soldiers.

"What's it to you, peasant?" one guard remarked as he plastered his face to Crono's bars. "Shut up in there and mind your business! Make no mistake, boy! You're not safe either!" They had knocked Crono senseless in the supervisor's office, rendered him incapable of fighting back, beat him, then tossed him in a cell. "You have one night left to live, Zenan. You might want to reflect on your worthless life before dawn comes." Crono's eyes filled with a savage bloodshed redder than his hair, and his countenance flared with a bestial grimace. The soldier quickly backed away and thought twice about approaching Crono's cell.

"Mark my words, soldiers of Guardia," Crono warned. "One day these prisoners will escape from this hellhole. When that time comes, you'll wish you'd never been born. They need only one moment of freedom to destroy you!" The guards laughed and shook their heads in pity. Bored now, they decided to skim through Crono's belongings. After pouring out the contents of the large bag into which his things had been tossed, they found a few tonics, an azure robe, a sword, a spare aleskin, and a beautiful cloak that shimmered with blackness so deep it rippled like liquid in the guard's hand.

One of the soldiers held up Crono's sword, drew it from the scabbard, and curiously beheld it in the dim light. "A very old blade," the man stated with confusion reflected in his eyes, which latched onto the gleam of the sword's brilliant luster. "By God, hundreds of years old!" His hand slid across its surface. "But it looks fairly new. How can it?"

"How do you know its age?" the other guard asked.

The man turned it over in his hand, and held it closer to his friend, who stared. "See that? 593 A.D. Devir." He turned it back over. "That makes the sword over four hundred years old. How could a blade this ancient remain in such flawless condition after all this time? Not even a blemish or dull edge on the forging."

"What in the world?" exclaimed the second guard who found something else that caught him unprepared. "Take a look at this cloak!" He brought it closer to the flaring torchlight, which revealed anew the cloak's softness and obsidian gleam. The guard slid his fingers across its dark fabric.

"Look at the intricate lines of this lacing, my friend, the faultless cast of its shine. The tailor of legends must have sewn this garment!" He stroked the depthless black of the Mirrodin Cloak. "Not even Prince Arthur bears such a thing."

The other guard smirked. "How about that? A peasant actually owns something of value, something worthy of admiration! I shall give this to the prince after that kid's death." He snorted and nodded in Crono's direction. "He lacks any worth to wear the red lion!"

Crono narrowed his eyes. "Go to hell! The mark of the lion would look better on a pig than on you two ugly bastards!"

The guards glared. "Hold your tongue. You don't want to wind up like that old man!"

Crono stepped closer to the bars as his venomous green eyes ominously settled on them. "When I look at you, I question my goal to become a Guardian knight. You disgrace the title of warrior, lowlife scum, less than the prisoners you guard!"

"Okay," the first guard yelled, bolted up from his chair, and fixed his gaze on Crono as he approached the cell. "You've stepped on my last nerve, fool! If another of your loathsome words leaves your cell, I will cut out your tongue! You will know the pain of the Dark Lord if you speak again, Crono Zenan!"

But Crono crossed his arms, and his powerfully built body still intimidated even without armor or sword. "I suppose beating helpless old men befits such declassed morons as yourselves."

The guards flung open Crono's cell door, brandished their swords, and backed Crono against the wall. For a time, both guards hesitated, but then they closed in as their blades sharply glinted in the torchlight.

"If you do not wish to be scalped alive," one of the guards threatened, "I suggest you shut your trap and do not open it again!"

Crono glared. "You really think I'm afraid of you? I'm going to escape this dinky prison, and I'd much rather spend the rest of my time insulting you bastards than . . ." The iron pommel of a sword knocked Crono to the ground. The two men repeatedly kicked him in the head, and punched him in the face several times. Crono thought he might lose consciousness from pain as one of the guards brought down his sword and cut into the side of his face. A hateful grin creased the man's face so wickedly that Crono recalled the Naga-ettes. Blood leaked from Crono's cheek, and dripped off the guard's blade as Crono screamed in anguish more earsplitting than the cries of the old man not a few hours before. Red droplets spattered the floor as the watchman brought up the sword to remind Crono once more of his fate.

"Too bad you won't be alive to taste freedom," he mocked. "You honestly think you'll escape this place? You know how many times I've heard these criminals say that? The same words depart each man, but they don't change his fate. No one leaves here, and nobody hears your cries. Don't run your mouth again, you got that?"

"Maybe there's something you don't get," Crono replied as he knelt on the floor. "Something you lost when you believed yourself above the law."

The soldier pulled Crono's hair to lift his face, but he recognized no fear in Crono's eyes. Crono spit in his face. "Friends! Mine are searching for me, you damn coward!"

The guard struck Crono as hard as he could and sent the prisoner back to the stone floor. "Too bad we can't kill you ourselves," one of them stated. Then both soldiers kicked Crono once in the ribs before they left the cell room and locked it. Crono stayed prone and silent as his cheek blood drained onto the floor. As he lay there, he scraped up dirt from the cracks in the stone and patched it onto his face. The wound might become infected, but bleeding to death took precedence. With his left arm he wiped his face, shivered from the cold, and drew his knees up to his chest.

A small puddle of water slowly formed where the rain seeped through cracks in the prison tower. Crono glanced down at his reflection, and studied the withered eyesore he had become in so short a time. In the company of rats, he leaned against the far wall and tried to sleep. This morning marked dawn of the second day since his trial, and the final day of his life. Only twenty-four hours remained in which to devise an escape.

Once within the past two days, Crono noticed the guards playing cards at a small watchmen desk. He had silently released the hooks that secured his elevated bed, and carefully dismantled them while the guards' attention turned elsewhere. With his makeshift lockpick he snuck the hook into the keyhole, and jiggled it around. But the door proved too strong and befuddling to unlatch. Despite his effort, the guards caught Crono anyway. They charged into the room, snatched the hooks, knocked Crono against the wall, and left him alone once more.

Even with pain, exhaustion and sadness, Crono found no sleep. Only the silence of plagued thoughts accompanied him as he waited for death or salvation. Time slipped away without notice as he motionlessly sat in his cell. From every corner, doom seemed to encroach around him as he pondered the hopelessness of his situation.

Blood, dust, cries of pain, and the echo of lashing whips assailed his senses as he waited. From the moment he opened time's doorway to rescue Nadia, one distinct thought never crossed his mind. But now for the first time it did. You will fail, the voice whispered. Death soon arrives. Crono forced himself to rise then, and walk around his small prison. All that existed there, he explored, stroked the damp cold, and stared out to the dim torchlight beyond the bars. Crono circled his cell, and studied it to no purpose as he waited for his thoughts to settle. When he found nothing, he dejectedly sighed and sat down again.

Truce Village hated him because of lies. His mother would never look at him the same if he ever saw her again. Even if he could escape this place, what did he have to return to? As he leaned against the wall, he felt something hard and uncomfortable brush against his side. He grimaced and shifted into a more tolerable position. Though the pain and weariness of his gash never ceased, something kept abrading his side, and made him ache. Barely awake, he expected the pest to be another rat. As he slowly stirred from the floor and glanced over, he noticed nothing touched him. He irritably sighed.

I'm going mad in this cell. I'm losing myself. For three days, Crono remained apart from worldly events, and stayed sane only by the feeble torchlight and rare patrols of the guards. From time to time, sentinels opened the prison door to check on him. Perhaps when they made their rounds, he could steal one of their weapons, and individually kill them. But when in his cell, the watchmen always held their swords ready, so maybe not. Without a sword, he could do nothing. The soldiers would cut him down before he could reach the steps to freedom.

He reseated himself, and once again the pain bothered his side, and rubbed against him in a dull poke. This time it angered him. He sharply reached down, gripped along his flanks, and abruptly discovered the source of his pain. Oh it's my belt, he sorely thought as he adjusted the black leather. Perhaps it had gotten twisted or frayed. But he froze and realized the belt itself did not create the discomfort. At that moment, Crono's dying hope flared anew when his hand suddenly touched something metal that could not be seen. Truth dawned, and the promise of Lord Cyrus burned like the sun. Crono Zenan still carried the Blade of Lunaria.


	20. Chapter 20

Chapter XX—The Stranger in Black

Against the backdrop of endless night, lightning flashed in silver explosions, and etched the dark summit of Kelvenforge Mountain with striking radiance. Rain fell upon the land below, and thunder roared in long uneven peals as the weather ominously shifted to a magnitude Truce Village had never before experienced. The tempest had raged since sunrise and continued throughout the day, and into late evening. Despite the hours of its rampage, it still showed no signs of relent as wind howled and thrashed across the plains and forests. Overhead, dark clouds wreathed and buried the stars in a shadow that engulfed both heaven and earth. Storms descended and shook the world as they fiercely tore at the cold stone tower of Crono Zenan's captivity. Not a day before, sunshine brightly lit and warmed the timbered fields. But now the atmosphere seemed plagued by a curse that somehow crossed over from the Middle Ages, and erased light from the blue skies of Guardia. As cheerless gloom screened away the horizons and moon, it forced all life into darkness.

Fire hotly flickered in the many sconces that surrounded Guardia Castle, and candlelight softly burned from the dimness of village homes below the sweeping fortress. Across the trees of Darkwood Forest, a fell wind creaked the branches, and carried with it the sense this storm would take life before it quieted. Torrents of rain spilled from the leaden skies as the wind and lightning fractured sections of the prison tower. Outside the castle gates, guards watched the sea roil skyward with transcendent waves that challenged the Mountain of Kelvenforge.

With every explosion of thunder and water, the ocean seemed to come alive and drown horizons in its power.

A dark night for us all, a stranger thought. He strolled the castle halls, and passed the guards with a momentary nod, then continued onward.

On the night of the second day of Crono's imprisonment, Prince Arthur departed his personal chamber to walk the castle halls. He arrived at his destination but aimlessly paced outside Nadia's bedroom to gather his thoughts. He didn't know how to approach her as he pondered anew the depth of her sorrow. The fate of the man she loved had heavily shaken her emotional and physical health, and she had not come out since Crono's arrest. Not even the king and his stern apology coaxed Nadia to emerge.

Arthur knew Crono's execution began at dawn the coming day. For the past two days the prince attempted to convince the king of Crono's innocence. But the chancellor always interrupted their conversation, twisted into lies everything Prince Arthur sought to clarify, and buried all else brought to light. The old man condescendingly labeled him young, inexperienced and irrelevant to the trial, and spoke down to him as an inferior. Although the royal son reluctantly accepted his father's decision, he remained suspicious of the chancellor's every claim against Crono. More surprisingly, the Prince of Guardia felt a peculiar fondness for Crono. This not only caused Arthur to doubt his personal sense of justice and involvement in the matter, but it also raised an unanswerable question. Did he act in the grip of personal bias or the warnings of his heart?

The entire situation felt wrong, and he remained incredulous to the outcome of Crono's sentence. Surely the evidence in the courtroom should have convinced Arthur that Crono deserved death. But acceptance never arrived, and his indecision only grew as he considered his sister's behavior. Why would Nadia defend a man who kidnapped her? This fact alone made no sense, and carried far greater impetus than anything else. Only Nadia believed in Crono's innocence, and until just recently Prince Arthur believed it, too. Tonight he had learned something paramount about their case, and this crowning truth eliminated all doubt. Now came the time to stand with that boy when all others turned their backs. The Prince of Guardia anxiously sought to tell Nadia what he had discovered. If anything in the world could console her, the message he carried would.

"Nadia," he softly whispered, and leaned against the bedroom door. His voice gently floated on the air. "May I please come in? I have some news that you may find pleasing." A long moment of silence ensued before Nadia slowly opened the entrance. She peeked out to either side of the hall, then pulled the barricade wider to let Arthur enter. Lightning flashed from outside her chamber window, and a small fireplace burned from the west wall but Prince Arthur found no brightness in Nadia's eyes. His gaze lingered a moment longer as he sensed her agony. He could tell she dearly loved Crono. Raindrops pattered against the stained-glass window, and reflected the tears that streaked her face.

Nadia lowered herself to the edge of her bed, and clasped her hands in her lap. "What did you wish to tell me, brother?"

He turned to face her, and his eyes filled with compassion. "I agree with you. About everything. I know Crono's innocence as well as you do."

She stared in wonder. "How could you? You weren't with us the day everything happened."

Prince Arthur nodded in understanding as thunder rumbled through the depths of the castle, and he felt the floor ominously shake. "Because someone told me."

"Who?" Nadia asked. "Nobody else could have, Arthur."

"You are mistaken, dear sister," he replied. "One man did. But the court had not called him into question so he couldn't attend the trial, and nobody heard his testimony. Last night, this stranger came to the castle. I never saw his face, but he claims to know you and Crono. He told me everything about how you two met."

Nadia thoughtfully gazed up. "What did he want?"

"He inquired about visitation rights to speak with Crono, and wished to discuss matters with Father," the prince explained. "I told him no one could speak with the king at the present time, and men sentenced to death cannot have visits. Something he said changed all I once believed."

Arthur glanced out the window, and watched a flash of lightning fill the northern horizon. "He told me Crono saved your life, and gave specifics about the day you two met at the Millennial Festival. At Crono's arrest, only you stood by his side. The hooded stranger repeated exactly what you and Crono said, so I knew all three of you could not be lying. All three testimonies matched.

You couldn't have possibly synchronized them with you locked in your room, Crono in prison, and that man at Truce Village."

Nadia froze. "Did you catch his name by chance?"

Arthur's serious expression did not change. "Devir. The stranger called himself Luca Devir." Before Nadia could respond, Arthur held up his hand for silence. "But our discussion must end here, sister. Time runs out. We cannot linger much longer because destiny calls us down a different road."

She blinked in confusion. "What road?"

Arthur knowingly winked. "The road to freedom. The path we should have followed three days ago when I first heard your story. May justice guide us." He pulled free his shining blade with a resolved twinkle in his eyes that cast away Nadia's doubts, and filled her with hope. Then he walked to the wall where Nadia hung her bow, lifted it down and reassuringly placed it in her hands. "We attack the prison tower tonight. By the gods as our witness, Crono Zenan will live to see the dawn."

Nadia sat up straight, and felt suddenly energized. "How will we save him? When?"

Prince Arthur flipped back his cloak, tossed her a quiver of arrows, and bolted out the door as his words hung on the air. "Right now."

Outside the Village of Truce, a slim figure in black journeyed westward across the Land of Guardia. A storm roared overhead, but its biting winds and thunderous volleys did not slow the quick and purposeful strides of the stranger. As she braved its dangers and considered her mission, a grim and relentless determination masked her face, and stamped out all emotion. Once past Darkwood Forest, she hid behind bushes to study the soldiers who patrolled the royal grounds. Her first challenge: Gaining entrance to the castle. Within the leafy shadows, her dark feline eyes slyly found her prey as she breathlessly waited, then sprang onto a solitary guard and slit his throat. The ambush lasted only seconds. Blood spilled from the helpless man's neck, and mingled with the pouring rain as the lifeless form collapsed before the attacker. The stranger yanked off the badge and uniform of the high-ranking official, and furtively donned the attire to convince the guards of her authority. Then she heaved the body under a bush, and disappeared into the dark. No time for delay, the stranger thought, for dawn threatened.

As the rain increased, she wickedly smirked and knew its concealing shelter would aid her cause. When the lightning flashed, she created a brief diversion with a highly-flammable powder, and set fire to a series of wide brush that fronted the castle entrance. Even in the storm, flames sprang to life and brightly flashed through the gloom. As several guards panicked on the straightway and cleared their posts to rip off their thick cloaks and put out the fire, the figure in black slipped unnoticed through one of the barracks doors. Through the closely watched hallways of Guardia Castle, the slim intruder melded into the shadows, and bypassed the soldiers. She darted through the gloom, avoided the torchlight, and evaded capture and death as she searched for her target.

To pass uninvited into Guardia Castle invoked a fatal sentence that no trial or argument could prevent. Guards killed intruders on sight for such a bold act of intrusion and blatant defiance of the law. But nothing frightened this stranger. She had come too far. Her footsteps softly echoed as she descended deeper into the chambers of the castle, and briefly glanced into each prison cell for the one she came to find. But she did not discover the warrior with flame-red hair. Some prisoners lay dead and chained against the wall. Flesh peeled from their desecrated forms, so she figured the guards held Crono Zenan in the prison tower, not the castle.

With a wave of her cloak, the stranger in black disappeared and hastened through the stone dungeons and into the upper halls towards the prison tower. She pulled her hood over her head, and appeared as any other soldier wrapped against the weather. One guard turned and saw through her disguise, but a dagger sank into his throat before he could react, and he dropped to the floor with a faint grunt. Knives never lurked far from the killer's hands. She had embraced this habit ever since her father perished long ago, and tonight's storm perfectly assisted her silent massacre.

She ascended the upper regions of Guardia Castle, and sought the bridge that led to the prison tower. A black cloak draped her slender shoulders, and she wore a loose-fitting tunic to conceal her breasts.

The unsuspecting guards briefly saluted her while they made their rounds. The girl's sleek green eyes took in everything and gave nothing back as she made her way through the castle depths, and slipped in and out of the darkness that surrounded her.

She refused to live without Crono, and even the looming possibility of death did nothing to influence a heart that felt no fear. He meant everything to her, more than just a teacher of the blade, and her dearest friend. Although younger than he, she considered herself his equal in swordplay. They had trained together since childhood. Even from an early age, he had sowed the seeds of valiance within her, and to this day they flourished like a forest. If Luca also set out to find Crono, perhaps sometime soon she and Luca would meet.

She bypassed the royal hall, and quickly slipped from the stairwell passages and into the upper halls to the bridge. Between shadows and light, she dashed from the corridors, and marched without hesitation when eyes found her. She acted the part and seemed to have a mission to achieve. But even in her disguise, she knew only the guards already stationed in the prison towers could enter there. She could not pass beyond the bridge. Several men occupied that tower, so she must remain vigilant. The hooded stranger made her way down the halls, and kept her keen eyes and ears aware of anything that moved. She felt her blood rush through her body, and welcomed the adrenaline as she considered the possibility of death if someone caught her. Cloaked darker than the shadows she passed through, she gracefully and silently sped across the castle, and did not look back. The heart gazes deeper than the eyes, the words of Old Man Melchior echoed in her thoughts, and his voice pushed away her doubts. Trust what it shows you. She knew the knights of Guardia rigorously ensured no prisoner who entered the tower ever came out again. I will confront and defeat my enemies, she told herself.

She came upon the door she sought, and drew back her shoulders as she marched like the men in the surrounding hall, and kept her face concealed in the shadow of her broad hood. She pulled open one of the great doors and assuredly nodded to the soldiers. "I'm the night watch," she stated in a baritone.

The soldiers turned back to their desks, and then she disappeared through the doors and into the rain. She began crossing the half-mile bridge that led to the prison tower as it loomed before her like a great tombstone that buried the hope of freedom. The rain and wind threatened to send her sprawling off the edge of the bridge, and tore at her slender form as she traveled. The lashing proved so strong that the concealing hood suddenly blew off and revealed her face. Long auburn hair fell away from her dusky features and sun-browned skin, and her dark eyelashes sharply contrasted green eyes that rivaled any garden of earth. In the pouring rain, her hair faintly shone red and hid a lightly freckled pixie face.

Once across the bridge, she opened the doors to the prison tower and made her way down a flight of stone steps that branched into an office. The man who sat there snored in sleep, and his head rested on a sheaf of papers. Tsking at such a poor soldier, the girl quickly draped her hood along the sides of her face, and silently made her way across the chamber. Through another door, a flight of steps marked the path ahead, and descended into faint torchlight that flickered in the enclosing gloom. She breathed in relief as she noticed fewer guards stood in these halls than in the castle.

But she took nothing for granted as her footsteps softly echoed on the stone floors, and she proceeded with stealth and caution.

Suddenly she heard a violent clamor of steel, thumping and blood-curdling screams somewhere below. Feet shuffled across the stone floors, and clashing blades echoed very near her. She cringed at the horrifying cries of men somewhere beneath her in the deep chambers. Combatants hit the ground in raucous thuds, and words of praise lifted above the backdrop of bloodletting. She froze as she heard men emphatically cheer the name "Zenan" in a rising commotion that seemed to shake Kelvenforge. In the silence that ensued, she motionlessly waited, remained mindful of any guards, and kept herself as still and silent as the death that passed not moments before. She no longer felt any doubt. At least one of the prisoners had escaped his cell.

Now curious, she urgently picked up her pace, flung off the heavy rain-drenched cloak of the guard, and felt the weight on her body considerably ease. At this time it would be unwise to conceal her face because any prisoner out of his cell might instantly kill anyone who wore the lion's mark. If a prisoner truly escaped, more than likely he would set free his fellow inmates as well. One of them had to be Crono! She drew her sword as she stepped into the empty halls. She softly and evenly breathed, relaxed with her sword tightly clasped to her chest, and listened for any ambushes or clues of soldiers closing in. She suddenly longed for Luca. He always provided a steady presence whose logic proved so accurate it always led to victory. Somewhere in this dark tower, she knew her very resourceful ally waited for her.

She carefully edged into the halls, and noted a shining light just beyond the door. She brandished her sword once more to remind herself of the challenge that waited ahead, and sidestepped between the shadows like an assassin unleashed. Her eyes riddled with fire, and her auburn hair reflected damply in the torchlight as she charged in with blade leading. At any moment, she expected soldiers to lunge at her, and she frighteningly yelled as her teeth clenched for battle. But then she lowered her weapon, and stared.

Five soldiers lay dead and aimlessly scattered across the floor as though a shadow of desecration descended upon them. Their heads rested in pools of warm blood that still leaked from their ribs and throats. Upon each sightless face glowed the symbol of a blue crescent moon that glimmered like a radiant scar from their flesh as if by magic. Swords, axes and maces cluttered the floor, and some had completely shattered as though a force of great energy exploded through them. A weapon not of this time must have carried latent power in its forging, and all other metals seemed helpless against it. In the torchlight gleamed stonewall shields that became splintered into harmless fragments and flung to the ground. All guards had fallen to death in silent screams as their scarred expressions etched with the unmistakable horror of something they could not stand against. It took their lives before they could blink, and not one life remained. In disbelief, the girl stared at the scene and read the details to discover what happened.

Suddenly she noticed several bloody footsteps that marked the passage leading out. She glanced into the other cells to see if anyone lingered. Then everything made sense. Every last cell had emptied, and every prisoner set loose.

Abruptly she turned her attention to the last cell door at the end of the hall, and thought a wounded or exhausted Crono may have been left behind during the gruesome battle. His nature suggested he would invite harm to himself if it meant saving the lives of those around him. But when she inspected the final cell, she discovered no one, and concluded he had escaped with the other prisoners.

Suddenly a shuffle reached her ears, and she turned around. At the opposite end of the hall emerged a blonde-haired girl with a bow, and a man who carried a sword near the stairwell. Prince Arthur and Princess Nadia stopped when they noticed the stranger in black who stood above the grim scene. Their eyes sought an answer. But everything came to a standstill as the stranger drew forth her blade, and charged at the Princess of Guardia.


	21. Chapter 21

Chapter XXI—Blade from the Past

Crono Zenan stepped into the faint red torchlight of his prison cell with a grim and hateful expression on his face. In the dim glow of fire, his eyes fiercely burned and reflected the bloodlust within as he rose to full height. The Blade of Lord Cyrus never left him. This whole time, through everything he faced on his return to 1000 A.D., Lunaria remained at his side. It wouldn't even exist in this era but the untainted sword from a bygone age came through the gate with Crono. He felt in its presence the same undying courage that sustained him in the Middle Ages. Storms raged beyond the walls of the prison tower but even these could not rival the power that existed in this weapon. Blood dripped from Crono's cheek, and trickled into his hand as he slowly clenched his fist. He thought back once more on those he loved, his friends, his family and everyone he may have never seen again without this chance. A strike of lightning silvered the darkness of his cell, and flashed like the sword's retribution he would unleash. A small smile found his lips as he recalled the chancellor's words the last time he saw him. He warned every knight to be wary of Crono, to watch him with hawk eyes and never underestimate him. For the first time since his capture, Crono realized the chancellor did not exaggerate.

Crono gazed at each man beyond the bars, and his fury bled deeper than the slashes in the tortured elder's back not far down the hall. As Crono's thoughts settled, he slowly breathed and burned with the desire to destroy these men who had tortured both him and other innocents for two interminable days, perhaps even longer.

At a small watchman desk nearby, the guards enjoyed some dried meat and water. Crono placed his hands against his bars and began shaking them as he merrily grinned at the soldiers and sang an annoying song about raindrops falling on the castle. At first the two men ignored Crono but then progressively grew more irritated by the stupidity of the tune. When they finally looked, they saw Crono slowly dancing around his cell. Perhaps they recalled his upcoming death and thought why bother? Or maybe they still smarted from his insults over the past two days. Ash streaked Crono's face as it lit up by the melody of his song, and he seemed completely excited about having his head chopped off.

Crono began running back and forth in the cell, then kicked each wall of the prison as he continued his horrible singing. The guards surely thought he had lost his mind from sheer terror of his fate. They questionably squinted and watched him dance away the storm as if at a marvelous ball rather than a prison.

Finally one of the guards heatedly rose from his chair. "Okay, just what the hell are you doing in there, Zenan? Have you completely gone insane?" But Crono only hissed at him like a ferocious lion in his cage. He flexed his fingers like claws, bared his teeth, and growled. The guard's eyes filled with rage as he marched over to the cell, and sharply pointed. "What did I tell you? Pipe down in there! And stop dancing before I lose control and kill you myself!" But Crono started laughing so hard he had to catch himself against the wall.

This elicited another furious glare from the guard, who pulled out his keys, and began unlocking the cell door. "All right, you fetcher! I'm going to cut out your tongue!"

The enraged guard fumbled with the keys for a moment as Crono continued laughing at him. "Foolish mortal! I am invincible in this cell! You must be smarter than the door to open it!" The soldier charged into the cell, and Crono instantly backed against the wall with a facade of absolute horror. The guard halted and skeptically stared him down. Crono had shown no fear from the day of his arrival until tonight. Now the youth retreated and cowered as if before the Dark Lord himself.

"You have serious problems," the guard stated. "I don't know what sick joy you get out of pestering us all hours of the night, but you have irked me to the limit, Zenan. The guillotine's a death far too merciful for one such as you. I'd rather see you suffer. I'm sure the king won't question the timing of your execution when I tell him you tried to choke one of the guards and I had to cut off your arms." He wickedly grinned, and lifted his blade. "It's time to die, Zenan. Your life ends now!" The guard hatefully shouted as he attacked and struck down at the seemingly helpless youth. But as the sword fell to cut open Crono's flesh, the imprisoned warrior instantly unsheathed the shining Blade of Lunaria, and cast aside the strike. Ringing metal pierced the silence as brilliant blue fire surged to freedom, and burned the soldier's weapon from existence. The startled guard fell back against the light, and fear clouded his face from the unexpected appearance of the sword. He gaped when the sacred blade radiated outward, and sheltered Crono in its power.

"Impossible!" the soldier gasped and fearfully gazed into the dark green eyes that reflected another menacing fire. Lightning struck once more from beyond the barred window of the cell. "Your hand held no sword!"

Crono fiercely grabbed the guard by the neck, and squeezed as he pointed the blade at his victim's face. "Blades exist forever in the hearts of true warriors. Remember that on your trip down to hell!" As the words left his mouth, Crono kneed the man in the stomach, clouted him in the face and knocked him out the cell door, where Crono stabbed him through the heart.

The four remaining guards sprang to action at once, and shouted, "Man down! Man down!" Axes and swords ripped from sheaths, and soldiers furiously charged at the escaping criminal to swiftly end his life, and avenge their comrade. The other inmates roused as the unnatural sword of blue fire sprang to life, lit up the prison tower, and encompassed the knights in a prison of its own. Walls of light closed in around them as the soldiers rallied and advanced on Crono in an unyielding swarm. But the boy from outside of time stepped through his cell door, and lifted his shining blade.

The guards furiously roared, and intended to stop the prisoner before he killed again. Crono met them head-on, lunged from the shadows, and doomed every last man who imprisoned him. As the armored knights converged on him, the shirtless fighter spun into his captors, and cast them down with a wave of lunar energy and silver-blue death. A cry of vengeance erupted from Crono's voice as a frightening manifestation of power exploded through the Blade of Lunaria, and blinded the guards with its brightness.

The air flooded with light, and every strike of the divine weapon rumbled the ground with the force of a quaking moon. Outside the tower, the storm and lightning clamored and mirrored the battle that took place within, and the sounds of onslaught rose above the thunder.

The Blade of Lunaria clashed into the guards' steel weapons, flashed through the enclosing gloom, and cracked blades into fragments as it pierced armor and shields like wind through autumn leaves. The soldiers of Guardia fell before Crono as the tall warrior's crimson hair reflected the torchfire scattered throughout the dungeon halls.

In no time the Blade of Lunaria fulfilled anew its forgotten legacy as it slayed men faster than any weapon forged since the days of Cyrus. Crono advanced with a series of attacks that simultaneously burned and fractured his victims, and seemed to rock the entire mountain. The prisoners excitedly shook their bars, and shouted cheer and praise as Crono prevailed over the impossible.

"Kick their ass, Zenan!" they cried. "Send them back to hell! Zenan! Zenan!"

The warrior slowly resheathed his sword after the bloodletting, and quietly stared across the grim onslaught before he knelt down and searched for keys on the corpse of the main guard. Without hesitation, he stood up and used those keys to unlock the cell of each prisoner on this floor, and set them free. Instinct ruled his thinking at that moment, and he didn't consider if these men deserved their fates or not. Nine men emerged, and elatedly yelled as they banded together to pat Crono on the shoulder and ruffle his red hair.

"I love you, man!" one of them shouted, and suddenly kissed Crono on the cheek. Crono balked at that a little but said nothing as his mind pivoted back to the matter at hand. He unlocked the door of the tortured old man, entered his cell, and carefully reached down and helped the elder to stand. "Hey! You two!" Crono called out to two of the prisoners, who quickly faced him and listened. "Help this man walk." As the two held up the old man, Crono gave the half-conscious victim a tonic he salvaged from his blue robe.

The weakened elder briefly sipped the unknown liquid, then winced at the taste of the tonic, and roughly coughed. But he seemed at peace when he lifted his face, and gazed up with nearly lifeless eyes. "Bless you, lad," the old man whispered. "I thought I might die in this place."

Crono firmly gripped his shoulder. "You're going to be all right. These men will get you out of here."

Nobody questioned Crono's orders. They recognized him as the temporary leader of the brotherhood, and the one who would uphold order until they escaped this dark place. Next, Crono found the bag of his belongings near the watchman desk, and poured out its contents. He slipped on his black tunic, his blue robe and the Mirrodin Cloak, pulled on his socks and boots, and took hold of his steel saber. He had no use for the extra weapon so he handed the blade to a prisoner with black hair that draped his hardened eyes. "Everyone, grab the spare weapons on the floor."

"What's our plan?" one man asked.

Crono's eyes grimly narrowed as he faced each of them in the torchlit dungeon. "My plan includes exactly what all of you wished since the day the guards brought you here. Draw weapons on only those who would do the same to you. Strike fear in everyone by shouting your elation down these halls. Kill every guard you see."

With Crono in the lead, the ten prisoners charged from the stairwell, and into the upper halls beyond as they sought to both escape and destroy the guards that enslaved them. As the newest inmate, Crono slightly remembered the overhead passageways that exit the tower, and guided the way with a torch in hand. But he recalled the promise he made the moment he stepped into his cell: Before he escaped Guardia Castle, he had to find Fritz Ledger.

The group stormed the halls with heated roars and battle shouts as they vehemently aimed their weapons in bloodlust, and killed every soldier. In seconds they cut down all guards they encountered, and echoed a symphony of death across the corridors of the prison tower. Blood splattered the walls and floor in crimson that metallically gleamed in the torchlight, and those who dared stand against the small band of prisoners died in moments.

The two prisoners carried the old man as the remaining eight killed every soldier who challenged them, and slaughtered most before any warning could reach the others in the halls above. As their massacre rapidly continued, they mercilessly killed and defended their lives and freedom, and saturated the halls with carnage and death. The bloodletting warriors relentlessly charged and fled for the surface world beyond.

The inmates abruptly entered another set of halls, and followed a stone stairwell that spiraled up to the bridge connected to the royal halls. To everyone's surprise, Crono would not go with them.

"Zenan, that does not lead out," the black-haired inmate told him. "That passage splits into another set of cells. Do you mean for us to go after the others?"

Crono shook his head no. "There's only one man down there and I won't leave him. I'm sorry, but I must go on alone. You climb these stairs and find your way out. You have a life now, and a chance to lead it."

The prisoner clutched Crono's hand, and his eyes twinkled with respect and eternal gratitude. "Thank you, my friend. I shall never forget your brave deed. Be safe and go with speed."

Crono appreciatively nodded. "Farewell. Make sure you take care of the old one. Good luck to all of you."

The black-haired man bowed. "I will guard the elder with my life. Goodbye, Crono Zenan."

Crono backed away then, and darted into the darkness of the corridor. He did not look back as the black-haired warrior led the others to finish what Crono had begun and to fulfill Crono's final wishes. The red-haired youth slowly followed the shadows, and avoided the torchlight as he made his way on. A few tunnels later, he emerged into a set of passages lit by the faint crimson glow of flames. He sensed nobody near, and pulled free the Blade of Lunaria.

In his hands, the sword's fire came to life, and radiated from the blade to cast aside the remaining darkness, and reveal the path forward. The entirety of the tunnel glowed with lunar light as Crono held the sword before him as his weapon and guide. He cautiously advanced and understood this approach might draw unwanted attention but he could not risk the shadows hiding unseen enemies.

Crono guardedly slunk down the side passages into another stone hall, descended into the faint torchlight, and stayed mindful of any sound or movement. He knew he neared Fritz now since the layout of the prison cells looked identical to the ones he had escaped. Crono carefully raised the sword higher, pushed back the shadows and gloom, then hesitated in concern. He glanced into each cell, and detected no other presence but felt eyes on him wherever he walked, even when he thought himself alone. Suddenly he caught sight of faint stirring at the end of the hall, and noted someone vertically tied to a long steel pole in the middle of a prison cell. Crono gaped as he recognized the tortured man as Fritz. Streaks of dried blood clung to the skin of his arms. His tattered clothes covered him like rags, and large purple bruises swelled his skin. Crono slowly brought Lunaria closer, and studied his friend's injuries—the face streaked with blood, dust and perspiration, the vibrant eyes drained of color. Crono saw no movement of Fritz' lungs, and his friend's eyes stayed fixed on the floor. Scars faintly gleamed in the blue light where Fritz' shirt gaped open from being whipped.

Fritz weakly glanced up. He must have expected a guard. Then he froze in surprise. "Crono? Do I dream? Is that really you?"

"Yes, Fritz," Crono replied. "Hold on. Let me open this door." Crono effortlessly cut through the iron lock with a piercing ring, entered the cell, and severed the ropes that latched Fritz's arms. As the bindings fell away, Fritz collapsed but Crono quickly caught him, and held him upright until he felt strong enough to stand. "What have they done to you?" Fritz rubbed life back into his wrists as he gawked at his friend. "Are you really here?" Crono reached into his tunic, pulled out one of Evanheart's tonics, and helped Fritz drink it. Together they rested in the gloom for several moments, leaned against the wall in darkness, and listened to the rain and thunder outside.

"I thought you had died," Fritz admitted after a time. "How did you find me?"

Crono sincerely shrugged. "Completely by accident, to be honest. I had no idea they kept you here. I haven't seen you since the night of the unveiling of Luca's invention. Why'd they lock you up?"

"I lied to the guards. When Nadia disappeared, Luca told me to start a rumor across town saying she had returned home safely. They accused me a few days later of being your cohort, and of involvement in the kidnapping of the princess. Anyway, the soldiers hauled me before the king. I don't want to go into detail about what they did to make me talk, but for some reason they thought you, I and Luca kidnapped Nadia! I had no inkling of her royalty!"

"Fritz, I'm sorry you even got caught up in this mess. I didn't think it would cause any harm if you lied to the guards about her. We just wanted to buy some time to find her. You shouldn't have been brought here."

Fritz encouragingly patted his friend's shoulder. "No doubt for a reason as mindless as yours, Crono. By the looks of you, I'd say we're even."

A long moment of silence ensued before Fritz looked again at Crono. "So where did that portal take you, anyway? You and Nadia left us for three days. Did it lead to Medina?"

Crono shook his head no. "I don't think you'll believe me."

Fritz' interested expression did not change. "Tell me, Crono. I've wondered what happened to you ever since that terrible night."

"All right. That portal led us four hundred years into the past. Luca and I were stuck back there for days. We unintentionally affected history by appearing there. We had to repair the severed timeline because it would have affected the present if we hadn't."

Fritz froze. "That portal took you into the past? The Telepod's a time machine?"

"Not anymore," Crono replied. "Luca destroyed it after we returned here. But right now I think we've taken on bigger problems. We need to get out of here. I don't know how far we'll get, but somehow I have to leave Guardia. My life has ended in this land."

Fritz thoughtfully smiled. "Ever since I've known you, you have always been the friend who promises adventure. I will follow you to the end, Crono. I wish I had a weapon so I could help." Crono pulled free Lunaria once again, and its radiance shone across the stone floors. "Where did that sword come from?" Fritz asked. "Why does it glow like that?"

"It's from the past," Crono said. "Lord Cyrus actually carried this weapon. Time travel is real, Fritz. I became a hero in the Middle Ages. That's how Zenan Bridge got its name. Crazy, isn't it?"

Before Fritz could respond, they both froze at a sudden movement in the darkness beyond the barred cell. A momentary shadow dimmed the mingled light of the torches. Crono held his sword closer to his chest, and motionlessly waited. But then the shape disappeared. Crono cautiously resheathed his sacred blade, exited the cell, and walked down the hallway with Fritz a step behind. The two friends kept their eyes and ears alert as they retraced Crono's steps back to the side passage that directed out, and followed the sounds of the thundering storm. Crono knew someone watched them.

Just as Crono and Fritz neared the exit of the dungeon, a huge black-armored figure marched into the hallway, and brandished a mace. Disbelief crossed their faces as they halted in fear, then backed away from the behemoth. Before them stood one of the deadliest warriors in the entire Kingdom of Guardia. Massive iron spikes protruded like thorns from the Black Knight's heavy armor and powerful weapon, which measured the size of a small tree.

The towering champion held his mace in one hand, and pointed it down at Crono. "The chancellor sends his regards, Crono Zenan!" He raised the weapon higher, and his voice roared deeper than thunder. "You cannot escape fate!" The specter of Crono's death loomed before him. The executioner had come.

"Peace, stranger!" Prince Arthur shouted as he intercepted the assailant, cast aside the blade aimed at Nadia's heart, and saved his sister's life. He then effortlessly dodged a decapitating strike from the dark-cloaked warrior. "We mean you no harm! We do not wish to fight you!" But the feisty girl in black did not cease her attacks, and mistook his words as cries of mercy. She had no idea she contended with the greatest warrior in Guardia. Her wicked laughter echoed through the dim corridors of the prison tower as she relentlessly swept towards the prince, and swung her silver katana. The clash of deadly weapons pierced the air, and resounded off the stone walls as the two combatants exchanged blows. Arthur masterfully parried every attack in perfect harmony with the stranger's assault as she drove him backwards.

"You haven't won the battle, coward!" her voice heatedly raised as she treaded the shadows with sinister intent. She screamed in frustration, and launched another series of attacks at the confused Arthur. "You think yourself safe in this castle. You take away people's lives, and expect no one to stand against your laws. You have taken everything from me in your lust to control! But you won't take him, you bastard!" A glare flashed below her shadowed hood as she lifted her head, and revealed a deathly twinkle in her green eyes. The girl in black forcefully lunged at Arthur in a dizzying spin, probed him for weaknesses, and tried to land a solid hit on his body. But somehow he countered all of her attempts with speed she never expected. "This kingdom will suffer for its injustice!" she angrily promised, and her ferocity matched the swings of her sword. "You and all who live here will die!" The swordswoman sought to cut into the prince's heart, and end the battle quickly. But the task proved hopeless as he blocked every one of her attacks with minimal effort.

"Why would you seek to destroy the imperials?" the prince calmly asked her, then parried another strike, and cast her back to the wall. "What quarrel have we brought you? We have fought to preserve your freedom and the lives of all citizens."

Angered further, the attacker lunged once more with frightening strength. "I won't let you take him!" she screamed as the prince dodged her low thrust. "The prisoner you thought dead has freed himself! He will bring about the end of you!" She noted the foolish prince owned several advantages in this fight, and wondered if he only knew how to block. Each time she attacked him, he did not fight back, and she ran out of ideas to provoke him. But she recklessly fought, showed no signs of fatigue, and let her rage empower her strikes as she advanced once more with her hood drawn over her face like death. Yet no matter what she did or how fiercely she attacked, she could not strike down the Prince of Guardia.

Princess Nadia would have mercilessly shot the stranger in black with her bow to defend her brother, but she knew he only sought to disarm his opponent, and reason with her. She reached into her quiver, pulled the bowstring taut, and almost fired an arrow at the cloaked girl until she noticed a familiar battle style. Unrivaled fury and might trailed every strike, green eyes twinkled in mischief, and red hair peeked from beneath the shadow of her hood. Almost everything about her reminded Nadia of Crono.

She paused and slowly lowered her bow as she skeptically stared at the stranger, and suddenly realized that she contended well against a master of the blade. Only Crono's combat passion and fearless determination could prove so remarkable in a fight with a warrior like Arthur.

For a time, Nadia inched closer to the battle, slightly knelt down, and tried to peer beneath the hood. She initially thought the stranger might be Crono wrapped in the Mirrodin Cloak to conceal his face, and aid his escape. But Nadia knew her love would never attack them like this, and certainly not take long to recognize her. The length of the auburn hair that fell from the stranger's face did not shine quite as red as Crono's, and her voice revealed her as female. Nadia hesitated as she studied the familiar ferocity that marked her eyes and face whenever the hood lifted. Even her movements and swordplay seemed to mirror Crono. Who was this girl?

The match between Arthur and the stranger in black abruptly ended. Arthur simply sighed, and his lightning-fast reflexes suddenly sprung into fighting brilliance. He cast the girl's steel blade from her hands, pushed forward, and held his blade up to her neck in warning. The girl's glare wavered between anger and disbelief as Arthur forced her to sink to her knees in defeat. The prince cautiously waited for a time, then knelt down beside her, and held his blade ready for anything. Slowly he pulled the black hood from the stranger's face, and stared at her youthful features. She easily took the throne as the most beautiful girl he had ever seen in his life. Her eyes shone green like Havenseld, and strands of her faint red hair trailed down her dusky face.

Arthur impulsively and ironically bowed his head before such beauty, for a prince bowed to no one. He brushed back a lock of his golden hair, and kept his weapon aimed at her neck.

"You fight well, my lady," he admitted, as if she had not just attempted to kill him. "I am impressed by your blade skill as much as your courage. Your beauty transcends the ring and shine of your sword."

She glared up at him as if insulted, and her eyes hatefully narrowed. "Save it for someone who gives a damn, pretty boy. What have you done with Crono?"

Jealousy welled up inside Nadia as she stomped forward. "Who are you? Where did you even come from? And what do you know of Crono?"

The stranger darkly smirked, and gazed into Nadia's blue eyes. "You have a lot of nerve pretending to worry about him. You're the sorry brat who put him in that cell. You caused all of this destruction and chaos, Nadia. I know enough of him to realize his innocence. He would never kidnap anyone. And I'm not going to sit back and watch Crono murdered by blood-crazed fools who . . ."

"What are you even talking about?" Nadia demanded, and found this mouthy girl even more distasteful with each passing moment. "You're the one going around killing people, and you dare call us blood-crazed fools? Clearly, it's you . . ."

But the prince quickly held up his hand for silence, and turned back to the stranger. "My lady, we have no intention of endangering Crono's life. You must understand. We have come here to set him free. Please trust that our intentions match yours."

Suddenly the swordswoman hesitated. Her eyes pierced Arthur's as they attempted to detect any trickery in his words. Did the children of the man who wanted Crono dead seek to set him free?

She disarmingly smiled, and brushed back her hair from her pixie face. "Do you take me for a fool? Your intentions the same as mine, ha! Tell me, Prince of Guardia, do you think little of all peasants or just young girls? You disgust me in every way. I have seen what you do to these prisoners. I have glanced into each cell and pray God has mercy on your soul. Why would King Guardia's children protect a convicted felon? Doing so would disgrace your honor and even jeopardize your chance to one day sit on the throne. I'm not stupid. You want him to die so you can uphold what you regard as justice!"

Arthur's face softened as he gently lowered his blade from her throat. "My lady, if true, why would I spare you this night? I know your skill with that sword. Did you not recognize my opportunities to end your life?" The prince leaned forward, authentically gazed into her eyes, and tried to infiltrate some dark hidden corner of her heart. "But I let you live, my lady. And I did so for sound reason. We fight for a common good and must fix this injustice."

She suspiciously stared up at him for a time, then shook her head no. "I don't believe you. You're lying."

Arthur took her hands, and helped her stand. She reluctantly let him do so. "That is not our way," he told her. "We acknowledge Crono's innocence and recognize when our father has erred. My sister and I seek to set him free because we discovered the truth."

Nadia's eyes hardened and filled with outrage. "You're nothing but a cold-blooded killer!" she screamed, and gestured to the surrounding corpses strewn across the halls. "You murdered these poor men! Why don't you look around and recognize your own horrible ways! Ever think about that? How dare you belittle my brother when you can't even notice the inhumanity of your methods!"

Prince Arthur remained motionless as he observed his surroundings. "No, sister. She did not kill these men. I found no blood on her sword."

Nadia quieted, and stared at the carnage in grim realization. "Then Crono did this," she whispered, and struggled to believe how he could have possibly conquered so many soldiers, and survived.

"I am sorry," Arthur said. "He could escape no other way. Sometimes freedom can only be bought with sacrifice." Arthur stood, stepped into the firelight, and reached down to pick up the stranger's fallen sword. He glanced at her with a reassuring nod. "Come, my lady," he suggested, and tossed her the weapon. "Let us search these halls for Crono and pray we arrive not too late."

The girl excitedly beamed as she placed the sword back in its sheath, and smirked at Nadia. That grin appeared so strikingly familiar that Nadia instantly thought of Crono again. The stranger headed back toward the stairwell before Prince Arthur tugged at her cloak. "My lady, one moment, if you please. Who are you? I must know your name."

Her next words chilled Nadia with the dawning truth that time travel can undo life as well as create it. "Crysta. My name is Crysta Zenan. I'm Crono's little sister."


	22. Chapter 22

Chapter XXII—The Scars of Time

Dawn slowly rose over the eastern edge of Kelvenforge Mountain but the leaden cast of the thunderous night stole away the sun. Morning could not pierce the darkening clouds as the raging storm cast light from the skies of Guardia, and blocked even the faintest streamers of sunbeams. Beyond Darkwood Forest, ocean waves roiled and lifted towards heavens that flashed with lightning as rain and wind violently clashed across the land. The Bell of Queen Leene pealed into the early morning mist, and chimed through the gloom to announce the sunrise. But in the chancellor's mind, this did not presage a day of light and life. On this day he would avenge the Yakra! He must not let Crono Zenan escape!

The old man strode away from the Great Hall with his dark robes drawn around his lean frame. His somber brown eyes displayed rage that easily transcended everything he ever felt in his life. Word had reached his ears of Crono's escape. A host of men in his wake broke free of the lower dungeons, and gradually made their way out of the prison. None of the imperials had the vaguest idea how he managed to release both himself and all the deadly prisoners locked within that tower. The chancellor thought it absolutely inconceivable how one person could so utterly shatter the entire resistance of the castle. Crono continually walked in the shadow of death yet somehow providence traveled with him. The king worried not, but the chancellor knew mere soldiers would not be able to detain Crono again. He tired of waiting. They needed to take more drastic measures!

The chancellor had already warned those foolish guards! He gave them explicit commands to watch for anyone suspicious in the prison tower, and even dispatched five soldiers plus the Black Knight to guard Crono's cell. Despite everything arrayed against him, he still broke free. Crono steadily became a serious problem, and costed the chancellor men, time and patience he could no longer afford. I should have killed him when I had the chance, the old man thought once more, but knew he could not reveal his identity. Doing so might compromise his ambition to rule the Kingdom of Guardia.

The red-haired youth would be much harder to kill now that he had regained his freedom. Not to mention the countless friends who followed him, a host of prisoners who would fight and die beside him, a stranger in black, the inmate Fritz Ledger, and the scientist from the village! The chancellor tried so hard to convince the king to execute Crono on the day of his capture, and be rid of his filth forever. The heinous elder vowed to destroy this villain by any means necessary. All of these fools and the entire kingdom should have fallen to the mystics long before. Nothing would stop him until he claimed vengeance for the death of the Yakra four hundred years ago. The time had arrived to take matters into his own hands. He had no choice left. Crono must die!

The sinister old man pulled a lever disguised as a torch, opened a secret passageway through a wall behind two knight statues in the entrance hall, and stepped into a hidden chamber. Within sat the king as he read near a candle on the adjacent desk. Books and histories lined the far side of the room. Above the king's chair rested a shield with two swords, and long curtains fluttered over a large bed in a corner.

Knights had escorted King Guardia to this concealed chamber where only the trusted advisor and eminent protectors could enter until they secured the situation, and disposed of the dangerous men who ransacked the dungeon. He waited there since last night, and ordered all available soldiers to march upon the dungeons, locate the criminals, and kill them on sight. Already countless guards advanced towards the prison tower to decimate the rebellion, but the wicked chancellor knew this would not suffice. So he unleashed the executioner after Crono. Although one of the most powerful beings in the kingdom, the Black Knight still consisted of flesh and blood. The Yakra fell once to that boy, the old man recalled as his dark eyes narrowed in bitter memory. The chancellor would not make the same mistake!

"A word if you please, my king," the advisor requested as he stepped into the room with his staff, and slid the chamber door in place.

The king attentively glanced up, removed his reading glasses, and suddenly noticed something odd about the chancellor. A peculiar uneasiness surrounded the old man as he seemed to sniff the air, and his gaunt face appeared almost feral when he peered across their enclosure. The king wearily sighed, rubbed his eyes, then set aside his book on a nearby table. "What is it this time, Chancellor? Do you wish to consult me once again on the particulars of this night? Or can I simply go back to reading?" The king's sore expression suggested his displeasure with current events, and his voice muttered with frustration and impatience. He seemed to recognize a pattern of ill fortune as situations descended from bad to worse each time the old man advised him.

The chancellor glanced around the furnished quarters as his snakelike eyes gleamed with interest and satisfaction. No guards occupied the chamber, and others had stationed themselves in hidden recesses outside in the castle halls. The rest fought in the prison tower. "No, my king," the old man quietly stated. His tone remained calm and steady but he looked distracted by something the king did not recognize. "I come bearing a message of wisdom for you. I fear the executioner will not triumph in his task."

The king yawned, and wished he didn't have to deal with the old man this early in the morning. "We have already discussed this matter. The boy is only human, Chancellor. You make this conflict appear much too difficult."

The old man heatedly struck his staff to the floor. "He must not live!" His voice crackled into a distant echo as a long moment of silence ensued.

The king suspiciously gazed at the old man. "Why do you fear him so? In all my days, I have never seen you act this way towards anyone." The old man answered only with a blank stare. The king dismissively waved his hand. "Rest assured, my friend. Crono will pay for his crimes soon enough. He has escaped for now, yes, but he won't make it out of the tower. Nobody ever does."

The chancellor thoughtfully nodded as he stepped forward. "Perhaps. But Crono's different. He is not your average fighter, my lord. You will not be rid of him so easily. We cannot quantify his allies. Even in the castle, he has friends in places we might never think to look. I do not doubt your words. But I believe this situation requires a stronger answer for the greater good."

The king studied him for a time, then slowly leaned forward. "How strange that he escaped . . . because part of me now believes in Crono's innocence." At the chancellor's outraged look, the king continued. "I can't ignore the way my daughter looked at him. She spoke of him with the passion and conviction of a queen. I could feel the truth in her words but mistook her certainty as ignorance. She's troubled by something she does not care to admit." The king paused on reflection. "Do you remember when that boy attacked me in the courtroom?" The old man slowly nodded yes but looked disturbed. "When I tried to strike Nadia, he stepped between us. He looked straight into my eyes, and told me to never hurt her. With chained hands, he still stopped my fist, and stood up to me, the King of Guardia, all for the sake of my daughter. His actions gave me much to consider. Why would a criminal act that way?"

The chancellor listlessly stared out the window into the rain, and watched the black ceiling of storm clouds slowly enshroud the land. The wind, rain and thunder continued, and the raging heavens mirrored the roiling chaos that stirred in the old man's eyes. A strike of lightning flashed, and illuminated the chancellor's body as he clasped his hands behind his back. "Dark dreams will come to pass should Crono's life remain. I know his strength, my lord. He gave freedom to every man in that prison. Nothing we have sent has prevailed against him. Can you not see the evil that guides the edge of his sword? We must send him to the grave! His friends and inmates will unite, and he will become a violent force of reckoning. I beseech you now, my king, on everything I stand for in this land. We must implement something else to stop him, something inhuman."

The confused king folded his hands before him, and stared at the chancellor in the near darkness. "I do not understand."

The chancellor slammed his staff into the floor again. "Send out the Dragon Tank, my lord. Unleash it with a host of men to guard the bridge. No prisoner will ever cross alive. All men we can spare from this castle, dispatch and arm them to the bridge, and kill that boy!"

The king suddenly felt chilled as he peered at the old man, then drew his robes closer to his body, and eased back into his chair. "Chancellor, I trust my men. We have no reason to employ that machine. I have placed my life in the hands of my soldiers before. They have never failed me." He paused. "You didn't answer my question. Your need to kill him concerns me deeply, Chancellor. Why do you want to see Crono dead?"

"I speak to you on behalf of the people! If the criminals escape the castle, the villages will be in danger. We must stop them here and now, my lord! Deploy the Dragon Tank and use its power to kill that infidel!"

The king shook his head no. "You know I can't do that. The Dragon Tank has proved too powerful. We have tested it only a few times and have not fully prepared it for combat. Do you even realize who built that machine?" The chancellor shook his head no, and the king gestured to Truce Village. "The father of Luca Devir constructed the Dragon Tank. You mentioned Luca might be here to save his friend. If true, Luca would know how to shut it down. He understands machines better than anyone in the castle. The Dragon Tank would prove useless against them."

The chancellor wickedly grinned. "They will not expect it!"

The king frowned with irritation. "Look, I'm not comfortable with that approach. My daughter has slipped out of the castle again. She has possibly gone to the tower to search for Crono. I suspect she runs with him even as we speak, and I will not risk harm to my child. For now, we must trust the soldiers."

The old man glared and pointed towards the storm. "Princess Nadia is a traitor of this kingdom! She chose her personal wishes before the sovereign throne of Guardia, and behaves badly for a princess. I implore you now, my king. Send out the Dragon Tank before the prisoners . . ."

"No!" the king angrily snapped as his cold tone directed each word at the chancellor. "We face a small group of men, not an army! I worry enough about Nadia, and will not send that machine after them. It would cut Nadia down before realizing it."

The chancellor boldly stepped forward, and his voice seemed to hiss. "She will be cut down if you do not send out the Dragon Tank! She will be kidnapped all over again. Those evil men will take advantage of this kingdom. If you do not heed me now, more havoc will fall upon Guardia. Make no mistake, my king. If you do not listen, more will die. You must . . ."

"If we hadn't sent Crono to the dungeon, none of this would have happened!" the king roared, and bolted up from his chair. "If not for your determination to punish that poor boy, nobody would be dead today. My own son and daughter have turned against me, and walk in grave danger. Children mourn for fathers they'll never see again.

The gods wreak this havoc when innocent life receives a death sentence. Leene's Bell chimes but does not bring forth the sun. Look at the weather, Chancellor! Storms like this seldom reach Guardia. If I had listened to my heart instead of your words, my soldiers would still live this day. The blood of our people mark this castle because of you, Chancellor. Not Crono. You!"

"Send out the Dragon Tank!" the chancellor repeated. The king glared in outrage, and lifted his hand.

"Be silent! Your idea will only bring further death and destruction. I lost my soldiers and grieve their passing. Women wait in Truce Village for husbands that won't return. I will not let others die in a war that you started. We must not turn our back on friends." He slammed his fist on the desk. "I hereby set the men loose. Tell the guards to bear a white flag, and approach the prisoners in peace. I forgive all bonds of debt and sin. From this day forward, they are free. Let all of them know this order comes straight from King Guardia. You are dismissed!"

The chancellor gaped. "But surely, you do not mean this, my king! You must feel weary with grief and fatigue. If we free the prisoners, they will only kill more. If we let them go back to the village, then . . ."

"Then no others need to die!" the king shouted, and silenced the old man. "They kill because they want their freedom back. If I give them that, they won't need to fight!" He stepped up to the chancellor, and angrily pointed. "I tire of you second-guessing my orders, you old fool! I sicken of you discounting what I know in my heart to be true. These days, we must focus on peace, forgiveness and new life. Now get out of my sight this instant. You no longer hold the position of Chancellor of Guardia. Give the soldiers my message, and fulfill my final order. Go!" The king abruptly turned away, gazed out the window, and ignored the old man as he never had before.

The chancellor maniacally cackled. "Oh, my dear king. I'm afraid you forgot one small detail. How ironic you said it not a moment ago."

The king paused as the chancellor wordlessly waited only a few feet behind him. "And just what I have I forgotten?" He seemed at peace with the deep silence and gentle patter of the rain. Suddenly the chancellor drew a knife from his robes, and viciously stabbed the king in the back. When the blade deeply ripped into his flesh, the king went rigid, and tried to scream as he leaned over the windowsill. But his mouth emitted only blood.

The chancellor hungrily grinned as he smeared the oozing blood on his hand, savored it on his forked tongue, and whispered in the king's ear. From the corner of his darkened vision, the king watched as the old man's sinister eyes gleamed bright red like a demon. "Never turn your back on friends!" he answered with cruel mockery, and echoed the king's earlier words. The chancellor dropped the scarcely living form to the floor, and pulled free the blade from his back. Then he threateningly pointed down. "Now I shall rule as king! From the depths of Manoria Cathedral, I alone survived. All those years ago, I came to this castle cloaked in the form of an old man, just as my father did in the Middle Ages. He shall be avenged. Long live the Yakra!"

The chancellor knelt closer to the dying king as tentacles protruded from the monster's back, and menacingly writhed at his victim. "Your son and daughter will be taken care of, oh yes," he hissed with malevolent ambition. "No one will save them." Then the demon's sharp limbs sliced across his throat, and ended King Guardia.

With those last words, the chancellor fled through the hidden door, and cried out the murder of the king as he headed in feigned terror for the chambers of the Dragon Tank. And only a few feet away in the castle hall, Luca Devir paused in speculation, then removed his guns, and rushed towards the prison tower.


	23. Chapter 23

Chapter XXIII- The Black Knight

The attack boomed like thunder as the huge iron-spiked mace of the Black Knight explosively crashed into the floor towards Crono Zenan. When the mighty giant's blow descended, the youth jumped to the side, and dodged as a section of the stone corridor shattered into pieces. The small and weaponless Fritz Ledger fell down from the assault, and gasped with fear that transcended his darkest dreams. Crono gritted his teeth in steadfast determination as he held forth the Blade of Lunaria, and sent its sacred blue fire to light the shadowy halls of the prison tower. Through the dimness of the keep, the sword's energy entrenched the air while it surged and mingled in lavender sparks with torch flames that hotly burned from the walls. Behind Crono waved the Mirrodin Cloak as he charged forward to answer the greatest fight of his life. The behemoth's weapon crushed everything it touched with devastating impact, and forced Crono to solely evade and defend against its lethal strikes. He could neither weather nor return such powerful swings as he breathlessly awaited any chance to counter.

No matter how Crono approached or the number of times he dodged and deflected, the Black Knight never lost balance. After Crono's every evasive action, the mammoth soldier followed up with another attack of perfect formation and relentless momentum. Crono steadily realized he could not break through the deadly bashes or even land a hit. The executioner marched onward with hulking mass and illusive immortality, and his demon-horned armor darkly reflected between flashes of lightning. A spiked metal hand pointed down at Crono in challenge.

"Your life belongs to me, Zenan. The devil's due a soul!" He launched a sweeping blow after these words.

Crono dodged again, then quickly kicked the tremendous mace into a cell entrance, and attempted to catch the spiked weapon between the metal links. As he immediately slammed shut the door, he prepared to strike his colossal adversary, but his plan did not succeed. The Black Knight simply ripped the iron prison from its hinges, tossed aside the bars and gate, and showed no sign of fatigue or mercy as he crushed everything in sight. When Crono lunged at him once more, the executioner rumbled with laughter, and drove him backwards with an overwhelming hit that he miraculously blocked with his sword. But the force of that collision knocked Crono into the wall, where he landed on the floor in a fallen heap.

The Black Knight derisively spread his arms to deliberately leave himself vulnerable. "You're the one the old man sent me to kill? Truly, this is the indomitable Crono Zenan? And they say you're the reincarnation of Cyrus."

Crono glared in tenacity as he firmly gripped Lunaria, and rose to stand between Fritz and the executioner. When the red-haired warrior dodged another mace swing, he saw through the next attack, and instantly parried a broadsword that the Black Knight wrenched from his side, and pulled into the fight. Crono shouted a battle cry above the ring of clashing metal, then jumped away from an earth-shattering blow that shook the prison tower. The executioner thundered towards him, and knocked him backwards, but somehow Crono kept his feet.

With his armored fist, the colossal champion slapped aside Crono's blade, and struck at him with the broadsword. The youth quickly ducked and felt the Black Knight's cold gaze from beyond the dark slits of his helmet. As Crono charged forward, and raised the flaming blue sword to unleash its power, the giant soldier slammed him back several feet with his hulking shoulder. This time, Crono wearily stumbled and dropped to his knees when pain wracked his muscles. The executioner's footsteps heavily echoed across the lonely tunnel as a sudden flash of lightning briefly illuminated the hall, and he advanced towards his target to deliver the killing blow.

Crono's green eyes closed as he heaved in exhaustion, and his ashen face dejectedly sunk to the floor. The Black Knight raised his mace, and unleashed a strike so brutal it would have crushed anything else to dust, but Crono didn't flinch. Before the final hit descended, a single word escaped his lips, and filled the air with one name. "Nadia." His gaze snapped open, and defiance spread like fire through his veins as he felt it burn away every thought of defeat. He flung forward the Blade of Lunaria to stop the Black Knight's weapon, then rose on one knee, and held himself in that position.

The startled knight hesitated, then angrily pressed down with his arms and weight to crush the life from his victim. Under the increasing force, Lunaria brighty flared, and its light formed an image of Lord Cyrus that aligned with Crono as his strength unchained to inhuman limits. Within the inner radiance, Crono slowly stood to his feet, and pushed back the giant. The executioner strained with all his might, but could no longer keep him pinned.

The Black Knight froze in disbelief as the Blade of Lunaria shattered his broadsword into pieces, and the magic of the greatest warrior surrounded Crono in earth-severing fire. When the weapon exploded, the manifestation of Cyrus disappeared in a blinding flash of crescent moons that forced the executioner back a few steps. Enraged now, the giant thundered towards Crono and Fritz. With his pounding fists, he broke sections of the prison cells, shot bars and fragments of stone in all directions, and violently tore into the walls of the tower. Darkness suddenly flooded the hallways, and bright torches flew and fizzled out in the many puddles on the floor. The final light pulsed from the predawn glow of Crono's sword. Fritz watched in disbelief as Crono contended with the Black Knight, counterstruck every blow, dodged every attack, and showed no signs of weakening.

"Surrender, Zenan!" the Black Knight roared, then flung his mace towards Crono's chest, but the youth dodged and faced him again. The executioner did not tire from Crono's fierce onslaught, and seemed immune to his attacks as he returned them nearly four times harder. Fritz grabbed the thick unlit torches and hurled them at the Black Knight, gathered shattered stones, and threw them as forcefully as he could to slow the executioner. But the inhuman behemoth relentlessly charged onward.

Nothing could pierce his armor. He drove the boys deeper into the halls and further into the dark as he shrank the amount of space in which to fight. Already they started to lose all the ground they could spare, and soon none would remain. With fatal strikes, the Black Knight repeatedly swung as he slogged along in his heavy armor.

Crono became determined to gain some ground, and tried to push him back several times. He knew Lunaria could pierce any armor, but he could not overcome the giant's defenses as that mace swung too heavily and quickly.

Suddenly the two friends stood backed up against the wall. Fritz' eyes glistened with fear, but Crono's hateful glare did not waver. The executioner victoriously lifted his huge weapon, and the flashing lightning outside and blue light of Lunaria painted him with the look of a demon.

"You fool, Zenan. No man can conquer me. I am the greatest!"

Crono ransacked his brain as his thoughts raced. He froze in wonder as he recalled his fight with the Malordra Witch in the Middle Ages. The halls remained dark, and the storm furiously echoed. He would have grinned in his recollection, but he had to trick the knight, just as he had the witch four hundred years ago.

"I've already won this fight," Crono declared with a shrug. "I don't even need this sword anymore." He threw aside Lunaria, and the blade whirled out of reach.

Fritz gaped at Crono in shock, then whispered, "You just threw away our only hope! Why would you do that?"

Crono only stared down his tyrannical adversary. "You can't win."

The executioner hesitated, and suddenly seemed both stunned and interested that Crono so easily surrendered his powerful weapon.

Fritz could not stop gawking at Crono, who pointed at the knight. "I'm giving you a warning, soldier. Stand back from us right now or you will be killed."

The Black Knight explosively laughed at the threat, and lowered his mace. "Pitiful weakling. I think you've stayed in that cell too long."

"I think for a warrior of your status, you should know not to lower your weapon against an enemy," Crono pointedly stated. "Otherwise, you just look stupid."

The executioner tightened his fist. "You dare advise the greatest knight in Guardia? I know all that goes on in battle. My eyes see everything!"

Crono sharply grinned. "Eyes can deceive." Suddenly Crono simply vanished from sight. Like ashes into wind, he disappeared, and the light of Lunaria extinguished with him. The only remaining brightness came from flashes of lightning outside the barred windows and chasms in the prison tower. The executioner froze in stunned disbelief, and his head turned in all directions. Even Fritz didn't move as his face flushed with alarm, and his brows knit in confusion.

"Devil!" the Black Knight furiously roared. "Heathen filth! I should have known you practice black magic! Where do you hide, servant of Magus!?" He dared speak the name as he lashed out everywhere with his spiked mace. Fritz ducked under his strikes, and used this chance to escape. "No!" the giant shouted as Fritz darted around the Black Knight, raced for freedom back the way they came, and disappeared down the corridor. The executioner pivoted and almost caught Fritz before something struck the back of his legs. Out of nowhere, he felt the thrusts of a mighty blade strike his armor, and the assault of an unseen force attack from behind. The Black Knight frantically glanced around to detect what hit him, and guessed it had to be Crono, but he saw only shadows.

Vivid cuts formed on his armor as it slowly cracked apart in wide sections, and the dark knight's defenses rapidly shred from his body with blue sparks. "My armor!" he roared above the storm and lightning. "Show yourself, you coward!"

Unexpectedly, the Black Knight noticed a living shadow that moved in the darkness. In another flash of lightning and flickers of blue light, he noticed Crono's outline, and easily recognized his shape. When the sword strikes flared anew, and cast off chunks of armor, the executioner lashed out, grabbed hold of Crono's shadow, and yanked off the hood of the Mirrodin Cloak from his face. "Hah!" He viewed Crono's true form again, and squeezed him by the neck. "A magical cloak! Thought you could trick me, fool! Die now!" Crono gasped for air, and pulled at the knight's claws but could not break the iron grip. He violently struggled, and used Lunaria to probe for a vulnerable spot as he breathlessly flailed his legs.

Then the momentarily forgotten Fritz suddenly leapt onto the giant man's back, and climbed up the broad spikes of his armor. "Let him go, you monster!" Fritz yelled as he quickly located an exposed area, and stabbed a sharp metal fragment deep into the Black Knight's back. The executioner wailed louder than the thunder as the iron piece sank into his flesh, and he angrily shook off Fritz. This released his grip on Crono, who shot across the hallway, and landed in a clump. However, the knight immediately charged after Crono in a relentless mania to end his life. But Fritz hadn't finished. With two thick torches, he struck as hard as he could at the back of the Black Knight's exposed knees, and sent the giant sprawling to the floor with a crash that shook the tower.

The knight stormed back to his feet, caught sight of the annoying gnat, and charged after him in newfound rage. But Fritz did not stand down, and armored himself in a loyalty to Crono that transcended all the courageous acts of his life as he awaited the executioner. Livid now from the treacherous blows, the giant thundered towards Fritz, and then grew even more infuriated when he fell again to the stone floor.

From the far wall, Crono lunged at the knight, tightly held onto his legs, and clamped both limbs together with such strength that he sent his massive adversary tumbling to the ground before reaching Fritz. The resounding impact of the fall caused Fritz to stumble away, but his luck ended there. A part of the knight's spiked armor struck his side, and sharply stabbed into his hip as they both fell to the ground. Alarmed, Crono ran to his friend, and gently lifted him. When he examined Fritz' face, he found him unconscious. He hastily searched Fritz' body for the wound and felt something soft, warm and slippery on his hand. When he raised his hand to his face, he discovered it drenched in fresh blood.

"Fritz!" Crono yelled but could barely rise. "Fritz, get up! Stay with me, buddy. You have to stand! I can't carry you out of here!" Metal grinded through the stillness, and Crono suddenly turned around, and watched the huge knight retrieve his iron mace. Slowly but certainly, the executioner rose in the blue light of Lunaria and flashes of the storm beyond. Crono knew he could no longer finish the fight. He had to escape now or his friend would surely bleed to death. Despite his pain, he gritted his teeth as he took a firm hold of Fritz to carry him out of the halls.

With one arm draped around his shoulder, Crono held his wounded companion, and tried to guide him to safety with the last of his failing strength. Crono never discovered if the knight or fatigue hit him, but he suddenly fell to the floor, and couldn't move. Now out of breath, he garnered only enough energy to roll on his back, and watch as the Black Knight towered over him with a ready mace.

Lightning flashed, and the grim certainty of death fell across Crono as he accepted the end of his life. A moment later, he watched in disbelief as a silver arrow flew above him, and struck the Black Knight's hand. The executioner cried out and dropped his weapon to the floor as he searched the gloom. Newcomers suddenly entered the hall. Crono immediately recognized one as Nadia, the beautiful golden-haired archer who shot the arrow that saved his life. Another wore a cloak that waved like the mane of a fierce lion. The last dressed in black from head to foot. All three stood between Crono and the executioner. With swords held high, Prince Arthur and Crysta Zenan converged on the giant with a ferocity that transcended the storm. Nadia's arrows led the assault as the clash of steel and shouts rose above the thunder. As one, they charged and sent the executioner to his death with shots and strikes into the vulnerable spots Crono's sword had split open.

With a final cry that echoed through the depths of the prison tower, the Black Knight fell to his knees with a deafening thud, crashed to the floor, and expired. Half awake, Crono glanced up as Nadia leaned over him. He felt her soft hands caress his face, and saw her eyes shine brighter than sapphire. How close to death he must have seemed.

Blood and dust streaked his face. A vivid gash gleamed where a soldier had slashed his cheek, and his green eyes appeared lifeless in the radiant glow of Lunaria. The voices of the trio seemed to call to him from far away. They crouched near the two injured men, opened their packs, and began to bandage the wounds.

"Crysta," Fritz whispered. Crono heard the name but did not find it familiar.

"Don't speak, Fritz," Crysta advised her friend as she touched a canteen of water to his lips, and pressed a dressing on his wound to stop the bleeding. "Save your strength." She slowly approached her brother, and knelt above him with eyes that matched his own. "Crono, are you all right? Can you hear me?" Her soft and lilting voice sounded much like his mother's, and caused his mind to drift back to the beginning of that day when he awoke in his bed, and started this journey.

After Crono's wounds had been dressed, he rose to a sitting position with a weary sigh, and ignored the pain. "Thanks, stranger," he said to Crysta, who stared back at him with a mix of confusion and discomfort. Crono felt certain he had never seen this girl in his life, and briefly wondered why she gave him that look. Then he worriedly glanced at Fritz. "I don't think tonics and bandages will save him."

The prince nodded in agreement. He gently touched Fritz' chest, and grimly shook his head. "This boy needs medical attention right away. We must carry him to the hospital wing."

Crono painfully stood up. "Wait! Shouldn't we take him to a doctor in the village? He's an escaped criminal, after all."

Arthur dismissively raised his hand. "The castle's closest, and not many will refute my orders. I will take him to the healers right away. You need to get out of here as fast as you can, Crono. I trust you know the way."

Crono pulled out his aleskin, took a sip, then slipped it back into his robes. "I do. Thank you, Prince Arthur. I should be okay on my own."

Arthur smiled and firmly placed a hand on Crono's shoulder. "You astound me at times, Crono Zenan. Truly. I am glad to find you alive." The prince turned to Nadia. "Sister, accompany me to the medical wing. I have need of your assistance."

The Princess of Guardia gaped at him. "No way! I'm going with Crono!"

"We're not debating this, Nadia," Arthur stated. "You won't be safe traveling in Crono's company. After we take Fritz to the medical wing, we will not abandon our friends. You will see each other again soon. I promise."

Nadia hesitated but seemed to agree with his reasoning. She hugged Crono around the neck, and softly whispered in his ear as her arms slowly draped him. "I would have no other bear my pendant but you. I love you."

Crono's hand tightened on hers as he fought back the sadness of separating from her again. "And I love you." He pulled away from her, and released her hand. "You have to go, Nadia. Follow your brother. I'll find you again. Just like in the past." She inched back from him, but her eyes filled with sorrow as if still unwilling to let him go. Crono smiled sadly, glanced at each of his friends, and then grabbed his sword. "I will meet up with you later. The battle hasn't ended. I'm going on alone. Good luck to you all."

Crono turned to leave, but the girl in black grabbed him. "No, Crono. There's no way you're going on alone. I'm not about to lose you again."

Crono stared at her in bewilderment, and tried to remember where they met, but no memory came to mind. He found only her green eyes familiar. "Lose me again? I don't even know you. Where did you come from?"

She looked as if he just struck her down with his sword. "You're serious? It's me, Crono. It's Crysta. Don't you remember? I'm your sister!" Crono froze in speculation, then shook his head against the possibility. Could it be true? Had some glitch transpired in the space-time continuum? An unexpected event must have occured somewhere within the course of four hundred years. Two children of the Zenan bloodline existed in 1000 A.D., not one. But why would she know him while he had no memory of her? Once again, the reality Crono knew changed when he traveled back in time.

"I have a sister . . .," he whispered to himself. His heart stirred with sudden warmth as he studied his new family member. "This might sound strange, but does Dad live?"

Crysta smiled and shook her head no. "They must have struck you very hard in the head, my brother. No, father perished ten years ago. Remember? He died saving you from the orcs and imps in the forest on your return from the camping trip."

For a long time, Crono didn't respond as he sorted through the most mind-bending scenario he ever experienced in his life. In altering history, fate gave him the outcome of a sister. He fell against the stone wall, and rubbed his head as the truth sank into him. "Wow, I wish I could talk to Luca. This is just too much."

Crono placed his hands on Crysta's small shoulders, and studied her again. Daily life would certainly change when he returned home. He decided not to talk about time travel again. "You look just like my . . . our mother. You really are my sister."

Crysta laughed, and patted his hand. "You'll feel better after you get some sleep."

"I'm sorry," Crono said. "This week has just been crazy for me. Of course I know you," he lied. Crysta responded with a grin very similar to his as she brushed back a lock of her auburn hair. "It's okay, Crono. Let's just get you and Fritz out of here."

Arthur faced them. "I know a secret passage that will take us out of the prison tower. It leads deep underground to the cellars beneath the castle. Crossing the bridge would prove too long, and I fear Fritz has little time. The wound runs deep."

Crono nodded in agreement. "Then let's get moving."

Prince Arthur shook his head no. "I'm afraid the passage Nadia and I will take is guarded too heavily by soldiers ordered to make certain you do not escape this tower alive. We have the authority to force them aside, as I trust no word of our actions has reached them. But our path will not be safe for you or the lady."

Crono hesitated. "What do you propose we do?"

Arthur pointed down the hall. "That way has emptied of guards. I'm certain the released convicts have slain countless in the upper halls. We can assume the remaining guards busy themselves with the other escapees. I pray you will not encounter much trouble. Though a long road, it will be safer for both of you. The supervisor's office may be under surveillance, so I advise caution when passing through there."

Crono thankfully reached out his hand, and the prince took it. "I'm honored to call you my friend, Arthur. Someday when you reign as king, I vow to become a knight standing by your side, my lord."

Arthur released his hand, and stepped back. "My sister's presence and my own will not be questioned on our descent into the prison tower, especially with a wounded man. We will catch up to you in the castle halls. I feel our roads may cross there. I will speak to Father on behalf of tonight's events, and make certain neither you nor the lady will be harmed. Watch over each other." Then the duo of commoners and the pair of imperial siblings walked separate roads as all four gripped their weapons, and made their way out of the prison tower.


	24. Chapter 24

Chapter XXIV—As Storms Collide

After they departed the Prince and Princess of Guardia, Crono and Crysta Zenan made their way up another stairwell, and did not look back as they passed into darkness. When they reached the top of the rough-hewn steps, before them broadened corridors twenty feet across and thirty feet high. High above, the barred windows flashed with lightning, and rain echoed beyond in rhythmic patters. Stacked wooden crates occupied the edges of the wide tunnels, and disappeared into the shadowed ceiling of the tower. Lunaria guided the way for Crono and Crysta. Its blue light illuminated the halls with silvery radiance, fell across the blood-slicked steps in a deathly glaze, and revealed the remains of soldiers killed by prisoners who already crossed through the area. The foul stench of death and decay permeated the air, and reminded the brother and sister of a tomb as the shadows deepened and swallowed them whole. They heard nothing but the sound of their breathing, the echo of their footsteps, and the resounding impact of the thunderstorm outside. In crumbled heaps lay the bodies of guards and inmates strewn across the dark passage. The deceased seemed only to mirror the ashen blood-streaked countenance of Crono's grim and ravaged form. Beneath the hands of lifeless wielders shone weapons inscribed with the insignias of the lion, and the guards' armor darkly glimmered from the stone floors. Crono suddenly stumbled upon a particular carcass, and surmised that the black-haired and savage-eyed prisoner to whom he gave the extra sword must have sacrificed himself so the others could live on and escape. He had kept his promise to Crono, but died trying to save the old man they rescued.

The hollow eyes of the dead fixed on Crono and Crysta in a silent scream and cold reminder of their destiny should they be caught. The prison tower remained as hushed as the shadows, and darker than the fate of those left behind as Crono and Crysta pushed forward. The blood-drenched stone suggested nobody survived this terrible battle, and a short while later Crono discovered the bodies of the prisoners he set free. All of them had perished. He did not gaze into their eyes but looked ahead to the surface light that shone beyond the sealed chasms high above.

Several times Crono slipped and fell under the weight of grief, pain and exhaustion. Surprisingly his own resolve did not force him onward; his little sister's determination did. Each moment that Crono faltered, Crysta caught him, gripped his hand, and pulled him free of the doom that claimed so many this night. Her words fought back against every sense that he could not go on. "Remember your strength, my brother. Like the sun, life cannot endure if you do not rise. Look towards its light, and all shadows fall behind you. This pain comprises only weakness that leaves your body. Fight! You can't give up!" Crono's gaze lifted as she spoke life into his spirit amid the surrounding death. He clenched his teeth as he armored himself in her conviction, took a firm grip on the Blade of Lunaria, and marched ahead.

Several soldiers appeared from intersecting tunnels, immediately drew their swords, and prepared to kill the red-haired prisoner once and for all. They seemed bolder in their approach as they advanced, and must have realized Crono could barely fight. But no one made it past Crysta.

She fought like a wave of blades in motion, and unleashed her whirling swordplay in a fatal dance so blindingly fast the guards couldn't follow it. Throats split open, severed heads and limbs flew in every direction, and impaled bodies slumped to the ground as blood splattered across the stone floors and walls in crimson streaks. As the silver flurry of her strikes relentlessly flashed through the gloom, she safeguarded her brother with a merciless ferocity that astonished even him. He could never thank her for all the times she saved his life, or explain the impact of her rallying words and profound courage. Moments later, she insisted he rest a few minutes in a corner of the halls, and warned him to dampen the light from his weapon. She pulled a tonic from her pack, and ordered him to drink it, and then to lie a while stretched out on the floor. Crono slept for a time, but didn't know how long. After Crysta shook him awake, they emerged from the lower levels into a passageway Crono found familiar.

Lunaria glowed in moonlit brilliance, and etched the lines of Crono's haggard face as he held the sword before him again. He walked ahead of Crysta now, and led the way as his enchanted cloak slightly swayed behind his powerful form. Soldiers crossed them once more in the upper halls, and instantly shifted into a defensive position as solid and enduring as the stone foundation they guarded. With silver swords and blue shields that bore the lion mark, the knights barred the way. "Halt!" the leading guard demanded. "Lay down your weapons! No sudden movements!" But the two Zenans had come too far, and both had the same idea as they rushed towards the barricade to kill all who came within arm's length.

Crysta bounded through the shadows as her quick and slender body evaded all blows arrayed against her, and she fluidly assassinated each enemy she encountered. Her cloak hid her swordplay, and made it difficult for the knights to determine where her attacks originated, or even what weapon she used. One moment she tarried away into the dark; the next she held either a katana, daggers or throwing knives that sliced into the soldiers, and ended their lives.

Even in Crono's weakened condition, the men viewed him as the triumphant slayer of the Black Knight, and recognized the sacred blade of blue fire. They seemed to fear that the reincarnation of Cyrus now rose from the depths to take down the rest of them, and they could not hold him back. The powerful prisoner burst into the firelight, swung the legendary blade with shattering force, and split shields and weapons asunder. As both black-cloaked and red-haired fighters charged in with similar blade tactics, they propelled each man to the floor, and slayed the soldiers of Guardia as quickly as they arrived. The pair reached the final staircase covered in gold and red carpet, and disappeared into the gloom above the hallways that spoked out from a center axle.

They cautiously ascended the empty stairwell with silent footsteps, then stealthily peered from the entryway, and noticed the supervisor seated at his desk. Crono grimly smiled when he realized their fortune. Within the room, they found only the supervisor, who pored over some schematics, and who apparently knew nothing of anything that occured deep below him. Crono's confidence grew as he realized his chance for revenge against the man who treacherously knocked him over the head with his sword.

He studied the unguarded office once more but detected no other presence. This time, Crono boldly stepped into the room, slammed his sword against the closest wall, and sent a sharp ring through the chamber that seemed to pierce the frightened man's soul. The supervisor glanced up and gasped in horror as he noted Crono's burning eyes staring directly into his. He leapt out of his chair, and prepared to defend himself against the red-haired prisoner that emerged from the dark stairwell with the flaming blue Sword of Lunaria.

"You!" he screamed as he edged his way to the far side of the office, and limply held up his own blade. "No . . . It can't be you! How did you escape from that cell? Guards!? Guards!?"

"They're dead," Crono stated. "Just like every man who ever crossed me."

"No! Please!" the supervisor pleaded. "I meant you no harm. I only do what they tell me!"

Crono fiercely lifted his sword with both hands as Crysta entered the room from behind him. "You had a choice!"

The man dashed opposite of the threshold from which Crono advanced, and ran for the stairs that led to the palace bridge. Crono wanted to pursue him, but he felt too weak to mount the steps as quickly as the supervisor. Crysta prepared to charge after the man, and kill him before he reached the top, though she never got the chance. They heard a loud crash, the sound of metal slam against something hard, and then a sudden grunt. In confusion, they stood at the door, and cautiously peered up the stairwell.

The supervisor screamed for help from guards no longer stationed outside the door above. Crono and Crysta remained motionless. Suddenly something flew towards them, and they quickly backed away from the opening as the supervisor's body tumbled back through the door, and crashed to the ground. A vivid blood-streaked dent marked his forehead. Although the victim appeared unconscious, Crono knew by the injury that somebody had killed him. They waited in the momentary silence, and kept their swords ready as they listened to the approaching echo of footsteps from the stairwell above them.

Crono gaped at the pair of black boots that graced the foot of the steps as the strange newcomer revealed himself with a twirl of his guns.

Luca Devir triumphantly grinned and held up his brass knuckles. "Wow, what a punch for my first time!" Luca glanced up at his friend. "Well, look who it is. Crawled out of the gutter," he quipped as he stepped into the room. "Here I go through every complex variation of escape methods and all the trouble of rescuing you just to find out you've already freed yourself. So much for my planning. Ah well, at least I don't have to descend into that rotting black pit."

"I'm glad to see you're all right, Luca," Crysta softly said, then strode forward to kiss him. As her lips connected with his, Luca's eyes grew wide as he skeptically lifted an eyebrow, and studied Crono, who remained just as voiceless and frozen in awkward disbelief. Crono had never seen Luca more bewildered, but for Crysta it seemed the most natural thing in the world.

Luca hesitantly backed away, and slowly lifted his hand to touch his mouth as though to ponder a new scientific discovery. "Okay, tell me one thing, Crono. How come every time I see you, you always have a beautiful girl following you around?" Crono wished he hadn't said that.

Crysta suspiciously stared at Luca. "Wait a minute, Luca. You do know me, right?"

He examined her for a time, then shrugged.

In stunned rejection and disbelief, Crysta held Luca's gaze a moment longer before turning to Crono. "So it's true. You really don't know who I am. What's going on with you two? Why don't you recognize me? Have you both gone crazy or is this some kind of joke? I'm your girlfriend, Luca! We've been together since childhood. I'm Crono's sister!"

Luca immediately tensed at the claim, but noted Crono's hand-slice gesture for silence, and realized his mistake. "We can't stay here much longer," Luca quickly changed the subject. "We have to go before someone sees us."

Crysta nodded in agreement. "I'll scout ahead and make sure no guards arrive from the bridge. I doubt it, but I'll return as soon as I find out. Hopefully the storm has eased up some." Her voice sounded sad, and she didn't look at either of them as she crossed the room, and disappeared up the stairs. Crono sensed how isolated and confused she must have felt, and couldn't imagine suddenly being unrecognizable to friends and loved ones. He momentarily worried about letting her ascend the tower alone, but he had seen her fighting prowess, and thought she quite possibly exceeded his own skills.

Luca attentively leaned closer. "All right, Crono, emergency protocol. What in the world happened? You have a sister? How can you possibly have a sister! What's her name, anyway?"

"Crysta," Crono quietly answered. "I think some random event occurred in the space-time continuum or whatever you call it and it resulted in her birth. I actually hoped you could shed some light on the subject, because my mind just can't conjure the first clue. I simply have another relative for some reason."

Luca thoughtfully adjusted his glasses. "You were lost in the past for two days before I found you. Do you remember interacting with anyone before you reached Nadia?"

Crono thought back for a moment, and stopped short. "I met Toma Draconis and a tavern girl who . . ." He suddenly froze in shock of the memory. "That may have done it. I believe I saved the relationship between my ancestor Emily and Toma at the tavern. I didn't think that would change anything! I felt bad for Toma. I was just being nice!"

Luca grinned in amusement. "You altered your family history and, by the transitive property, your family in the present. I don't think fate ever had them reconcile."

"So what happened?" Crono asked. "You're the scientist! Calculate!"

Luca stoically shrugged. "We created an alternate reality that affected the outcome of our lives when we settled back into the Middle Ages. The space-time continuum incepted a counterpart for both of us growing up in that new reality while we remained unchanged in the past. As such, a separate outcome transpired for everyone around us without you or me knowing. Crysta thinks we're those counterparts. We look just like them, but the ones that replaced us shared memories with her, grew up and lived with her in the changed reality. When we bounced back to our original time, our souls crossed, and we replaced ourselves. As a result, we'll know very little of this alternate reality in the coming days. To avoid conflict, we should never speak of our past with Crysta again. We have no memories with her before this night."

Crono leaned back against the wall, and stared out into the rain. "Ow . . . my head hurts."

"To us, she's just a stranger. To her, we're the people she grew up with. But really we represent their husks."

Crono uncertainly hesitated. "So our lives just have to start over with her?"

Luca nodded yes. "But not all has gone against us. I've never had a girlfriend before!" He drew an immediate glare from Crono. "I think I'll be spending the night at your house more often!"

Crono sadly sighed. "If I ever do see home again. Let's catch up to Crysta."

Crono and Luca crossed the room, departed the office, and ascended the stairs to the doors that led outside. They felt the storm's fury growing closer on the narrow stairwell.

"Where's Nadia?" Luca suddenly asked.

"She saved me from the executioner. I risked going to a distant cell to find Fritz and he attacked me there."

Luca stared in distraction. "Wait, Fritz got arrested?"

Crono nodded yes. "He lied to the guards when they questioned the witnesses about Nadia's sudden disappearance."

"Ah," Luca guiltily sighed, but Crono continued.

"The chancellor sent the executioner after us and Fritz fell mortally wounded. Prince Arthur and Crysta had joined Nadia when it all happened and we decided when we were back in the lower dungeon to split up and travel in different directions. Nadia and Arthur take a secret pass below the tower as we speak so they can transport Fritz to the medical wing. Arthur will talk to the king, so everything should turn out fine as long as we manage to survive."

Luca slowly shook his head in the negative. "I don't think it will ever end up fine, Crono. I'd hate to be the one to tell Nadia this, but her father is dead. The king died last night during the storm."

Crono gaped at Luca. "What happened?"

Luca's eyes stayed fixed. "Last night when I sought you, I witnessed a brief meeting between the chancellor and the king. I didn't see the whole event because they spoke in a secret chamber. When the chancellor exited the room, he called out the king's murder. He had just missed me when I turned a corner in the castle, and I took just enough time to go back and peek into the chamber. Only one other man occupied that room when King Guardia was murdered, Crono. The evidence points to the chancellor killing him. It's obvious he wants the throne. He intends to kill the king and his children so he can rule the land. History repeats itself. The chancellor isn't human.

The Yakra had descendants and apparently this demon took the form of the chancellor in our time. That explains the court finding you guilty of kidnapping. It explains why the jury sentenced you to death. The Yakra wants revenge on you because you killed its father." Luca glanced at Crono. "But we still have one hope. You went back for Fritz."

Crono blinked at Luca in confusion. The sudden mentioning of Fritz Ledger seemed so irrelevant and unclear that Crono couldn't speak for a time. "What does Fritz have to do with any of this? No way I would leave him there."

Luca knowingly grinned. "It's astounding how the smallest acts in time can end up so revolutionary, just like your meeting with Toma and Emily. Your kindness back in the prison tower may have saved this entire kingdom, Crono. The fact you saved Fritz and he fell wounded led the Prince and Princess of Guardia down another path. I sensed from the beginning the chancellor would attack us when we reached the castle or maybe even the bridge up these steps. He wants to kill Nadia and Arthur because he knows by law he would become king if they die. He may expect us to cross the bridge as a group, but only we three will do that, and the hope for King Guardia's future throne safely takes a secret passage under the castle without him being any the wiser. And it's because you went back to save Fritz."

Crono didn't respond as he considered these particulars.

Luca dismissively shrugged. "In any case, we have our own battles to overcome." He pulled out his guns, and flashed his wolfish grin. "Let's head into that storm and see what the old man has in store for us! Crysta should be waiting ahead."

They opened the broad exit door, and faced the onslaught of the ceaseless storm and dark clouds that roiled and flashed overhead. As they emerged from the tower, wind forcefully pelted them, blew their hair, and whipped at their bodies in mighty surges that momentarily caused them to turn away. The steel bridge spanned the gaping ravine below, and stretched towards the black sweep of Guardia Castle, which towered a half mile before them. Above, the iron ramparts of the prison tower transcended the high peaks of the Kelvenforge Mountains. Rain fell from the skies, and lightning flared in vivid streaks that lit the northern horizon.

Crono glanced back to encouragingly nod at Luca before they shielded their eyes against the weather, and trekked onto the bridge. As they crossed through the mist, they bent their bodies into the wind, grasped the iron railings, and eventually caught sight of Crysta's shadowed form far ahead. Gusts tore colder and harsher from the heavens as lightning lit the bottomless chasm, which fell away hundreds of feet beneath them.

Despite the storm's ferocity, it felt inviting and refreshing to Crono. He had resided in an underground dungeon for the past three days and nights, and thought he would never again savor fresh air or feel cool water against his skin. The weather mirrored the spite and bitterness of the chancellor, who hunted them this night, and Crono silently promised to avenge Nadia's father. Just as they neared the halfway point of the bridge, Crono and Luca finally reached Crysta. Her cloak wildly billowed, though she remained as silent and unmoving as the surrounding gloom as she peered out towards the looming castle. Crono didn't understand why she hesitated or what drew her gaze.

The light of Lunaria sparkled on her rain-streaked features and pixie face as she turned it towards the sky. She did not look at anything in particular, and seemed entranced by something Crono and Luca felt rather than saw. Into the dimness of the great storm they followed her gaze but detected nothing.

"Crysta!" Crono shouted over the thrashing wind and echoing thunder. "Why did you stop?"

In the faint light, her eyes appeared empty of emotion and thought. "Something's moving out there. Further on the bridge, just ahead."

For several seconds, Crono and Luca peered deeper into the storm, and tried to discover the source of her warning. But they saw nothing except shadows, rain, and the sweeping castle that jutted from the mist beyond. Then Crysta wordlessly marched west across the bridge towards the fortress, and the two boys followed after her with weapons drawn. Crono and Luca cautiously scanned their surroundings for deadly traps or a possible ambush, and expected to find more soldiers ahead. Moments later something much worse shook the bridge when a terrible sound of grating metal shot through the darkness in a deafening screech. They hastily clung to the railings to prevent falling to their deaths, and initially thought the power of the storm caused the trembling. Beneath their feet, the iron foundation shuddered as if the entire mountainside collapsed and threatened to tear down the prison tower. At first the vibrations lightly echoed but then quaked the entire bridge in an unsettling wave that rattled their bones, and grew stronger the farther the trio ran ahead.

The tremors intensified, and knocked the slender Luca and Crysta from their feet as Crono caught himself against a railing, and continued to stare outwards into the storm. He gripped his sword closer to his chest when he suddenly noticed a giant black shape slowly reveal itself as it crept ahead in huge shudders. Then the trembling ceased, and all three finally bore witness to what caused the commotion. Out of the misty darkness emerged something so vast and powerful it dwarfed the bridge, and threatened to crush everything with inexorable intent. Like giant coals lain against fire, a pair of sharp red eyes shimmered as a massive dragon forged of iron and steel appeared before them. Steam flared from its nostrils as the tyrannical vehicle lumbered on. Crono instantly recognized the man who stood on top of the machine. The chancellor brandished his cane as if to conjure the storm, and stretched out his hands towards the black skies. His crimson eyes mirrored the monstrosity he rode as he led the procession to destroy Crono once and for all.

"Onward! Onward!" his voice rang out into the storm. A strike of silver lightning illuminated his twisted and demonic frame as his snake eyes leered down at them with sinister intent. "Crush them! Destroy them all and break their bones! Grind those vile fiends! Onward into the east, Dragon Tank, till the dawn reddens! Kill them! Kill the enemies of Guardia!" Crono, Luca and Crysta came to a dead halt. In the heart of the storm the madman challenged them as he waved his cane, and his voice hissed like a serpent when he cackled. "You may triumph for a day in the fields of battle!" he loudly screamed amid the clamor of lightning and thunder.

"But against the power of the Dragon Tank, you shall be incinerated! Die now for your treachery to the King of Guardia! Death upon you, Prince Arthur and Princess . . ."

Suddenly he stopped and seemed confused by their identities as he squinted to make sure they did not deceive him. Then his eyes deeply reddened and glowered when they fixed upon Crono. "Where are the prince and princess? What have you done with them, you vile fiends! They have betrayed this kingdom and their father! They cannot escape judgment!"

"They're beyond your reach now, murderer!" Crono yelled with a hatred in his voice that shook the air. "Your game ends here. We know you killed King Guardia. You won't get away with this, Chancellor. Or should I say Yakra!"

The old man marveled at Crono but offered no reply.

The three friends diverted their attention to the machine. The Dragon Tank boasted the bodily features of a massive gray dragon, and had been wrought of fortified metal by the hands of a highly-skilled engineer. Instead of feet, it rolled on wheels, and in place of its wings shimmered small iron cannons. Spikes adorned its backside like scales, and horns marked its iron head as its crimson eyes locked onto them. When it progressed, the entire mountainside shook. "I'm familiar with you," Luca stated as he surveyed the machine. "Pops built this."

"So then, you know the truth," the old man called down at Crono. "You just had to interfere with my plans, didn't you? Why did you have to arrive at our doorstep three days ago? Now you must die!"

"You're the one who's going to die, you coward!" Crono yelled back. As the words left his mouth, the fire of his sword speared into the heavens, lit up the night, and flared beyond the light of a full moon.

The chancellor shielded his eyes against the brightness, then slowly lowered his hand as his face became serious with recognition. "The Blade of Cyrus. So he spoke of you in that prophecy all those centuries ago. You answer all his riddles. But you cannot win, boy! The fate of that knight will be your own. Your life ends tonight!"

And on the bridge above Kelvenforge, Crono Zenan immersed himself in the memory of his father's death, and charged into battle.


	25. Chapter 25

Chapter XXV- For Love Eternal

Instantly the doors of the Dragon Tank burst open, and a host of soldiers shot out from hidden chambers to charge at Crono Zenan with blades leading. Crono braced himself as dozens of armed men and women shouted in bloodlust, and stormed at him in a fury that matched the weather. The Dragon Tank parted its maw, and unleashed an unfair advantage of brilliant red flames over the heads of the knights towards the three allies. As the wave of torrential fire billowed in Crono's direction, he quickly withdrew and felt a rush of heat and crimson brush against his body. Clouds of smoke dispersed amidst the backdrop of lightning that flashed in the skies beyond. With eyes that glared as fiercely as the dragon he faced, Crono regained his balance, jumped through a patch of smog, and spun into his attackers. The majority of his enemies died in seconds as he cut them down with the shining Blade of Lunaria, sliced through their heavy armor, and shattered their weapons to pieces.

Several guards halted before the dark figure in the rain, and cried out in fear of the blade that burned deep blue in the night. Lunaria seemed to rock the world in its thunder as shards of fire launched skyward, spread through the clouds, and protected its chosen wielder. Some soldiers tried to strike at the lunar force, but fell back against the light with mouths agape when their weapons suddenly exploded into fragments. On finding their chance, Crono and Crysta immediately rushed forward and tore through the guards in a whirlwind of steel that cast them from the bridge to fall hundreds of feet into the black void far below.

The two soldiers that survived this first onslaught fled back to the Dragon Tank, briefly waited for its doors to unveil, then retreated into its chambers. The machine revved in response, and its eyes gleamed red as the furnace in its great chest ingenerated flames anew. The three friends expected more intense fire now that the soldiers manned the inside.

Luca stood next to Crysta, reloaded another bullet clip, and fired both his guns while his black hair and leather jacket wildly flapped in the wind. He didn't appear entirely certain where to shoot as he yelled above the storm. "How are we supposed to beat that thing? I can't get through!"

"You're the smart one!" Crysta shouted back, and pulled free her katana. "Figure it out!" Flames zoomed towards Luca in a crimson inferno, but Crysta swiftly grabbed one of the fallen soldiers' spare shields, and lifted it just as the burst of fire hammered into the duo. When the danger subsided, they watched as Crono sprang into action and fearlessly raced for the heart of the Dragon Tank while a volley of bullets blasted to slow him down. But Crono immediately rolled sideways, regained his feet in the same fluid motion, and charged at the towering machine with a steady dash that surprised even the chancellor. The old man readied another blazing barrage, and the Dragon Tank's jaws spread to emit a new powerful attack. As a flash of lightning lit the Land of Guardia, Crono instinctively hit the deck just as more heated projectiles buzzed past his head. The Dragon Tank relentlesly fired its missiles, which forced Crono to lie low as the machine rolled forward to crush his body.

Thunder roared to deafening heights, and loudly echoed across the Mountains of Kelvenforge. Above Crono, a series of bullets pelted the air, and kept him grounded, trapped and unable to move. Massive chunks of the prison tower cracked and fell to ruin as the iron foundations shuddered under the reckless onslaught of the Dragon Tank's ammunition. An avalanche of stone and steel spiraled downward, crashed to the lower platform, and destroyed a major section of the bridge. The trio no longer had the option of retreating back into the prison tower. They would have to fight the machine or die trying.

The Dragon Tank towered over them with a metal-grating roar as it lumbered so enormously they couldn't possibly circumvent it, and escape into the castle on the other side.

All at once, Crysta noticed the massive machine steadily drew closer to the fallen Crono several yards away. She couldn't tell if he had lost consciousness or the debris wounded him. "Luca, make it stop rolling!" Crysta screamed.

"Easier said than done!" Luca returned, and suddenly bolted forward. "Watch out!" He tackled Crysta, and managed to shove her from harm's way just as another breath of fire and cascading rock spiraled towards them. An idea came to mind as Luca regained his feet, and pressed a button on the side of his glasses. With a sharp click, a vivid green crosshair spread over the lenses, and transformed them into a deadly scope with night vision. With the enhanced optics of his invention, Luca dodged the flames, pulled free both guns, and fired as many bullets as he could at the tank's wheels.

His projectiles barely damaged the dragon, instantly glanced off its steel frame, and only impeded the tank's progress for a few seconds, but time enough to do what he needed. He reloaded his pistols, shot once more, and gritted his teeth as if to drive his own will and determination into their firepower, then successfully dented the front wheel. Crono noticed what happened, and managed to elude the flames and bullets once more as he rolled to safety just when the machine closed in.

The Dragon Tank spat fire, unleashed a hail of missiles, and backed the trio closer to the shattered bridge opening that formed when sections of the prison tower collapsed. Crysta knelt into a defensive crouch, and searched through the haze of rain and smoke for her brother, but found Crono nowhere in sight. As the machine rolled closer and attempted to drive them from the bridge, Luca suddenly recalled its weaknesses, and repositioned himself. On the wheel closest to him, he carefully used the scope to aim and blast out one spoke at a time. When only the final remained, he fired at the axle, and his bullets struck home. The wheel instantly plinked off, rolled from the heights, crashed into the mountains far below, and rendered the tank incapable of movement. As Luca expected, the machine's weight constituted its flaws, and it fell and screeched against the iron bridge as it ground to a booming halt.

The chancellor visibly panicked from high atop the mechanical beast as he barked orders to the soldiers below, and hastily stoked the flames of the Dragon Tank to full power once more. Though he couldn't move, he seemed determined to incinerate his enemies with one overwhelming strike.

Then Crono appeared out of nowhere. With astonishing speed, he jumped on top of the tank, and nimbly darted through flashes of lightning and blue trailers of his glimmering sword. As he gained the summit of the vehicle's iron face, he attacked hard and fast, and struck the flaming jaws with Lunaria until a volley of bullets forced him to pull back. The chancellor watched in stark horror as Crono's sacred blade somehow broke through the Dragon Tank's seemingly invulnerable defenses, and shattered its armor apart with impossible sharpness.

Livid now, the old man rotated the tank's head, and stoked another powerful wave of flames to end Crono forever. But Crono instantly retreated, avoided the fire as it shot towards him, and dropped from the machine's body to stand near Luca and Crysta.

When the fire subsided once more and the smoke cleared, Luca's face lit up with another idea. "Look on its back! See that smokestack?" He pointed between two spikes where a column of smoke puffed into the air, and released the heat generated by the inner furnace.

"What about it?" Crysta asked, but Crono knew exactly what Luca intended.

"Take it out, Crono!" Luca yelled. "Only your sword can pierce that metal. We'll buy you some time to do it! I don't know how you got up there before, but go again and plug its mouth shut!"

"I got it!" Crono shouted as he darted away. The Dragon Tank unleashed another burst of missiles that flew in all directions, struck the prison tower, and broke off more chunks from the walls.

Crono charged for the smokestack, but his target stood on the tank's backside, and he saw no way to sidestep the machine without precariously stepping onto the bridge's iron railings. He recklessly took the one chance he had, clutched onto the Dragon Tank as he used his feet for stability, and refused to gaze down at the hundreds of feet he would fall if he slipped. Above the edge of the chasm, he cautiously shuffled and found solid holds on the lubricous metal in the pouring rain as he kept his eyes forward. The great engine surged with flames once more, but Crono lost his footing when he sidestepped to avoid the fire. He quickly gripped a slippery handle on the huge contraption just as the heated breath rushed past him. Luca watched in terror as Crono's left foot passed over nothing but air as he hung onto the edge of the bridge, and nearly fell to his death.

"What are you doing?" Luca screamed. "Are you crazy?"

Crono regained his balance as he slowly made his way over to the machine's back. Even in the cold rain, he felt the intense heat radiate from the forge's metal chambers. He climbed to the tank's neck, aimed for its head, and struck the dragon's fire-breathing jaws with such force he thought he might topple forward. But with an upward thrust, he deeply drove his sword into the tank's lower jaw, then dug inward to tightly seal the iron mouth and prevent it from casting any more flames. Immediately Luca sprang to action as he repeatedly fired at the small smokestack. Crysta safeguarded the inventor with a spare shield, and knocked away the missiles that launched from the machine's wings. Luca fired as fast as he could, and knew Crono could not hold shut those powerful jaws for very long. The barrage continued as Luca and the Dragon Tank exchanged blows.

Crono's skin slowly ripped under the strain to hold shut the jaws of the Dragon Tank, but even then he refused to let go. Lunaria could not shatter, and he resolved to remain as strong and unbroken as the blade that chose him. He felt the sword grow hotter as it reddened against the heat of the tank's powerful furnace, but his thick gauntlets allowed him to hang on. For several moments, he maintained that position at the edge of the chasm with his hands firmly locked to the blade. His muscles knotted, and the veins in his forearms surged with blood as he held firm in the eye of the storm. It took nearly all of Luca's ammunition, but eventually the smokestack collapsed. With its ventilation closed off, the machine violently rumbled like a volcano about to burst. Crono still clutched his sword as fire welled within, and flaming bolts shot out from the choking pressure of the Dragon Tank. This time, the intensity of the temperature permanently welded the mouth shut, and Crono watched in alarm as his sword began to sink beneath the metal that melted around it. With a mighty roar across the skies, Crono screamed the name of his sacred weapon, pulled it free of the enclosing jaws, and delivered three more powerful blows against the attacker's head.

The Dragon Tank turbulently shook as the chancellor yelled in sudden desperation and fear, and tried to maintain control. Steel cogs and gears shot in all directions as the machine broke apart, and smoke rose in dark currents through ruptures that spread from outside to core. As the final echo of Lunaria's name erupted from Crono's voice, he lifted the burning sword to the raining heavens, and slammed it deep into the Dragon Tank's gasket.

At that moment, a bolt of lightning swept from the clouds and lanced into the blade as blue flames sprang to life and burned inward. The sword's undying light speared through the storm, and lit the skies over Guardia Castle greater than the approaching dawn. As the Dragon Tank quaked with a crushing groan over the Mountains of Kelvenforge, Crono twisted Lunaria deeper into the machine's metal heart, and destroyed it forever. Lightning, blue flames and showers of sparks snaked across its melting walls in small explosions that rivaled the thunder. As smoke billowed under Crono, he pulled free and resheathed his weapon, and leapt off the dangerous vehicle to join Luca and Crysta on the other side.

"Duck down!" Crono warned, tackled them both to the ground, and covered them from the impending explosion.

The chancellor and the two remaining soldiers emerged from the Dragon Tank, and flailed around in horror. Malfunctions derived from everywhere at once as flames and lightning ceaselessly ensnared and consumed.

"How can this be?" the chancellor demanded. "Fix it, damn it! Fix it now!"

"Y-yes sir!" the soldiers replied, but the old man may as well have asked them to stop a flooding river. They all fearfully skittered onto the tank's back, and didn't appear to recognize the danger as they attempted to quickly repair the machine. The first guard leaned away and must have found the growing heat of the tank unbearable, and the other simply teetered in panic. Just as they realized their mistake, the tank suddenly exploded in a sonic boom that rocked the canyon.

The castle itself shook as an unleashed wave of fire and shrapnel nearly knocked all of them from the bridge. The Dragon Tank's chest erupted first as it spewed out its innards, and melted another section underneath it. The machine convulsed, created a massive hole in the bridge as if fire through paper, and then fell to the mountains below with an explosion that spread its parts across the chasm.

Crono, Crysta and Luca stood back to their feet, and watched as the two soldiers fell to their deaths along with the Dragon Tank. The chancellor had disappeared.

"Let's move!" Luca ordered as he took hold of whatever iron rungs still attached to the sides of the bridge. "We can still reach the other side, and escape."

Crono and Crysta followed after, and edged alongside the recently formed opening. Beneath them, the Dragon Tank's head lay in ruin, and the last of its smoke plumes faded into the storm. Crono trailed his companions as he carefully placed his feet onto solid holds, clutched the steel fastenings, and slowly crossed the bridge. Suddenly something barbed and hot stabbed into his ankle and pulled. Crono sharply cried out in pain, then immediately gazed down. The chancellor stared up at him with madness and bloodlust, and his hateful red eyes pulsed with inner fire as his clawed hands dug into Crono's leg.

"I will not let you live!" the old man's inhuman voice angrily rasped through the mist. The hunched attacker slinked from the lower recesses of the bridge, and used Crono's leg to pull himself up and stand before the red-haired youth. Tentacles shot from the demon's back as he began to strangle Crono with his talons and shape-shift back into the winged Yakra. "History will not repeat itself, boy! You will die tonight!"

The two struggled over the gaping chasm with harsh pivots and shouts of defiance as their limbs locked in fierce combat. The ancient demon sought to pull Crono off the bridge and join his fate as the red-haired youth fought to break free of the old man's unnaturally powerful grip.

"Crono!" Luca cried as he watched his best friend and the Yakra hang from the side of the bridge. The wind and hammering rain threatened to shake them loose as the sudden explosions of thunder briefly drowned out the cries of the two combatants. Crono dangled with one arm still clutched to a section of the metal while the terrifying gray-skinned demon towered over him. Within the haze of mist and shadows, the dark creature's face still appeared as the old man as it deeply inhaled and seemed to savor the scent of blood. When the monster's grimace twisted with sickening pleasure, its mouth creased into a threatening cackle while its stone-rending claws tore into Crono's flesh. Crono began to lose his grip on the damaged platform as the winged demon continued to soar alongside him, slice into his body, and attempt to send him hurtling to his death. Then Crono brought up his free hand to swing Lunaria, and cast away the demon.

"This kingdom belongs to me!" the monster shrieked as it skulked in mid-flight, and hatefully hissed at the glowing blade. Its leathery wings wildly flapped as the demon circled Crono like a beast at hunt, sniffed the air, and searched for a chance to strike. "It's no use! Why do you fight? Drop the sword, boy. Fall!" The Yakra fought harder as it launched at Crono with unexpected speed, and fiercely bit his neck. Crono screamed as blood leaked from his skin, and dripped onto the demon's forked tongue.

Just as Crono nearly fell from the bridge, Luca Devir shouted Crono's name, and jumped off the side of the bridge to land on the Yakra's back.

"Get off my friend, you disgusting bat from hell!" Luca commanded, and gripped the Yakra as it hovered hundreds of feet above the mountain. The demon shrieked in fear and confusion as Luca shoved a gun into its mouth, and began firing bullets down its throat. "Climb, Crono! Get out of here! Now!" Luca yelled as instinct ruled his reason, and he attacked with all the force he could muster. He dug his screwdriver into the monster's crooked spine, bashed in its fangs with a wrench, then bent its wings to cripple its flight, and gave no thought to his own safety. Crysta reached out her hand to pull her brother free of the chasm, and stood back up to help Luca. But Crono and Crysta grimly watched as the demon's clawed hands sliced into Luca's chest, clamped him by the neck, and held him suspended over the black abyss.

"And now for the final experiment," the demon mocked as it leered into Luca's eyes. "Your death. Will it end time travel as we know it? Let us test! Farewell, Luca Devir! May the doors of time close with you!" Then he tossed Luca into the chasm hundreds of feet below.

"No!" Crono screamed as a strike of lightning lit the skies, and thunder blared across the Land of Guardia. His best friend dropped away into the shadows of the void below, and sunk into the swallowing dark. "Luca-a-a-a!" And in the ensuing silence, Crono and Crysta Zenan heard only the cackling of the Yakra as it winged off into the clouds and disappeared from view.

With Crysta, Crono charged through the doorway of the tower bridge and into the bright halls of Guardia Castle. The criminal's abrupt appearance caused immediate panic as disbelief crossed the face of every onlooker. Maidens trembled in doorways, and servants ducked under tables. The memory of Luca's death hung in Crono's mind as he emerged into the torchlit corridor like a wave of fire, and fought on as he never had before. At every turn, soldiers attacked him, but the power of Lunaria sent the iron-grey figures crashing against the walls, and every witness quailed in fear. The crimson-haired warrior lifted the sword, and flung its blazing azure light through the massive halls from beginning to end. The Yakra will pay for Luca's death, Crono vowed as he clenched the Blade of Lunaria until his knuckles bled. I swear it.

The two black-cloaked companions boldly rushed into the halls and past the guards that attempted to impede their retreat towards the castle gateway. Crono risked a quick glance behind him, and noticed gunfire blasting when soldiers appeared out of the gloom and between glares of torchlight that reflected from the polished walls. This time, he ran faster, dodged from side to side, and hoped the bullets would miss him as he turned his gaze to the exit of Guardia Castle. This final hallway represented their only escape. Knights appeared from every shadow as the two maneuvered as quickly as they could. Through the onrushing defense, the duo stormed and toppled guards to slow those that followed behind. They weaved and ducked, rolled and jumped, and raced for freedom that waited in the twilight haze of the wide-open doors only yards beyond.

The castle guards fought in a fury that transcended the patrols of the prison tower as they sought to avenge the king they believed murdered because of Crono's prison break. They charged in a sea of iron and grey, surrounded Crono and Crysta on all sides, and forced them to a halt. Standing back to back, the duo faced numbers they could not vanquish. The knights ringed them in a circle just a few feet from the gate that led to the causeway, and the wall of silver shields threatened to strike them down at any moment. Despite the odds, Crono and Crysta raised their swords, and waited for any guard foolish enough to step into their death ring. Crysta held her katana to her chest, and kept her grim gaze locked on every man. The final taut string of her patience and mercy seemed ready to snap, and she would unleash her killing frenzy. The soldiers attacked in a sweeping and organized rush, and Crono and Crysta realized their doom but refused to go down without a fight. Just as the clash of swords began, a voice from the halls froze everyone into silence.

"Stop this at once!" Prince Arthur roared, then marched through the crowd, and stepped in front of Crono to face the knights. "By my right as the Prince of Guardia, I order you to lay down your weapons. You will treat these two with honor and respect!"

The commanding officer stared at the prince in shock. "But sire, they are . . ."

"What's the matter, soldier?" Prince Arthur angrily cut him short, and stared down the man. "Can you not take orders?" Crono had never seen Arthur so riled before, and he didn't understand at first, but Nadia's tear-stained face made him suspect they had discovered their father's body.

"Yes, but . . ."

"But nothing!" The stinging echo of Arthur's voice matched his glimmering blade. "Let them go right now! You will not lay a hand on these people! Stand down, soldier!"

"No, you stand down, Prince of Guardia!" A ruffled, winded and clearly aggravated chancellor stepped into the room with his cane. Part of the chancellor's swollen face streaked with blood from Luca's wounds at the bridge, and he looked as though he had risen from the grave. Crono could not imagine how he shape-shifted back into his human form so quickly. "These warriors, terrorists and anarchists represent a menace to this fair kingdom! We owe the good King Guardia to dispense justice to these fiends! And I mean you, too, Arthur!" The chancellor gazed at the knights. "For did not Prince Arthur's treachery and betrayal lead our king to his death? Did not Arthur set loose Crono from his cell? Yes, Knights of Guardia! Just like the princess, he has turned his back on us all and disclaimed all mandates of royalty!"

"Silence!" Arthur stated. "Crono kidnapped no one. It matters not what you think, what the courts decide, or what you've been told. The fact of his innocence remains."

The chancellor pointed at Arthur. "You brought the death of your father to pass! You cut down your own people to save this convicted felon! You allowed these criminals to escape! Our king died because of this!"

The gates that led to the causeway suddenly burst open, and lightning shot out of the gloom, and illuminated the entire castle as Luca Devir stormed into the hallway with a glare. "You lying snake!"

"Luca!" Crono gasped. How could he have possibly survived the fall? Luca did not acknowledge Crono, but as Luca stepped forward so the crowd could see him, Crono noticed the jetpack attached to Luca's back. "Everyone listen. Neither Prince Arthur nor any escaped prisoner killed King Guardia. In fact, the prisoners never made it out of the tower. The chancellor murdered him last night during the storm. The king died in one of the hidden chambers after the guards left him to help in the prison tower. And what a perfect time to murder the king, steal the Dragon Tank and attempt to destroy the king's children, don't you think? The chancellor knifed Lord Guardia when you all hunted Crono. He's trying to convince you of the prince's and princess' betrayal because who else would reign when all three have died? Only the chancellor himself could have possibly reached the king last night."

The soldiers hesitated, then slowly turned to gawk at the chancellor.

Luca pointed. "He's not even human. History has repeated itself. This shape-shifting demon mimics the very same that kidnapped Queen Leene four centuries ago."

The old man glared at Luca, and nervously faced the crowd. "Do not believe such nonsense! The king died because of the actions of these traitors and felons!"

"How could my father have been murdered in a chamber only you could enter?" Nadia demanded.

"Even doorways masked by walls can be unlocked," the chancellor replied. "Perhaps your brother is responsible for this treachery! The prince is, after all, next in line to become king!"

Arthur stared down the chancellor in outrage. "I did not kill my father. I set Crono free for justice!"

"You stand for justice, do you?" the chancellor mocked with a laugh. "Tell me then, oh man of justice, why did you kill so many soldiers of your own kingdom? Out of justice? So that women of this land will live in despair over husbands they'll never see again? So that all the prisoners in the tower escaped? So that numerous lie dead under the wounds of your sword? Where will your leadership guide this kingdom, Arthur? You killed your own people. How do we know you did not murder your father? Oh yes, I know your heart, Arthur. You would do anything for power. You mastered the blade for it. You crave greatness, and your need for it wavers on betrayal because you will kill anyone to have it, even family!"

The knights and maidens murmured among themselves, and their eyes filled with confusion and uncertainty.

Arthur shook his head no. "I did not strike down the soldiers in the tower without cause. They left me no choice. When I ordered them to release Crono, they attacked me for entering the forbidden tower without authorization. Everyone knows that trespassing there against the laws of the king will be punished by death. Even a prince must follow these laws in the name of Guardia, and I was willing to risk my life to ensure the freedom of an innocent man whom my sister calls beloved. But I do not answer to you. I banish you from this kingdom, Chancellor. Get out of my castle, and my people will settle this matter alone."

Suddenly the old man cackled as the guards shook their heads in the negative and started to inch toward the chancellor. "You have no authority to banish me from Guardia. The kingdom belongs to me and I will reign until we choose a new heir!"

The prince calmly stared as he watched the soldiers draw their weapons against him. Instantly Prince Arthur grabbed a torch from the wall, and threw it into the midst of the knights. Then he sprinted across the room, and pointed his blade at the chancellor's neck. Murmurs and stunned looks elicited from everyone in the room. "Should you bear the power here, old man," Arthur menacingly stated, "then you will release Crono and his friends or I shall cut you down. I will knife your back as you did my father's, you bastard!" The prince glared at the soldiers as his blade firmly pressed against the chancellor's neck. "Stand away, all of you, or I will behead your new king!"

The guardsmen did not question Arthur. They glared at the prince as if he truly were a traitor of the kingdom, then slowly put distance between themselves and Crono, Luca, Crysta and Nadia, all of whom gaped at Arthur.

"Your foolishness will be the end of you, Arthur," the chancellor dared to say with a grunt. "You cannot protect Crono Zenan forever. This choice will spell out your doom. You no longer hold the title of prince and everyone knows it. Kill Crono and all your crimes will be forgotten. Join me and your life will be spared."

Everyone studied Arthur as the silence deepened. "If I side with you, I have already died in my heart. Go now, my friends! I will buy you the time you need to escape. Watch over Nadia, Crono. Keep her safe to the end of time."

Crono nodded in acquiescence and then glanced at Nadia, who headed for the door. "Arthur," Crono said as he turned back to him from the doorway. "I never knew a better king." Arthur gratefully smiled with a bow, but kept his blade aimed at the chancellor's neck.

Crono's small group jogged the last few yards, and just breached the final door of the castle when the chancellor suddenly bolted free of the prince's grip. The soldiers sprang to action at once, and disarmed and detained Arthur as they hastily strapped him in irons. He struggled for a moment, but a guard knocked him unconscious with the handle of his sword, and the prince lifelessly fell to the stone. Nadia turned back for her brother, and knew they would kill him if she did not save him.

Crysta grabbed her by the arm, and immediately halted her advance. "No, Nadia! We have to leave! There's no time!"

"Let me go, Crysta!" she shouted in outrage, then slapped at her hand and pulled away but could not break free of Crysta's strong grip. "They're going to kill him! I have to stop them."

"Come on, Nadia!" Crysta shouted as she struggled with the princess, and forced her to look at her. "They'll kill you too. Arthur wanted you to live. Don't rob him of his sacrifice." Nadia gazed into Crysta's eyes, and noticed they reflected a deep green pool of sincerity she had never expressed before. Nadia wiped the tears from her face as she tentatively nodded in agreement, and Crysta released her hand with a reassuring smile. Then they both ran ahead to catch up with Crono and Luca.

"Don't just stand there, you fools!" they heard the chancellor scream. "After them! Do not let them escape! Kill them all!"

The four dashed across the causeway, and ran for the refuge of the Darkwood Forest border. Behind them echoed the heavy footfalls of the knights of Guardia as they poured out of the castle in a relentless swarm. Luca glanced back and discovered the squadron closing in on them fast, then quickly warned his companions. Gunfire blared through the empty trees, spears rained down, and angry shouts mingled with their own labored breathing. They knew they could not stop and fight against so many, and so attempted to lose their pursuers in the maze of woods. As they raced through the trees and thick underbrush, they fled to no particular distance or destination. They only knew they must end up as far away from this place as possible. Crysta led them onward as Crono followed behind with Nadia while Luca brought up the rear. Above a tiny stream, they crossed a small bridge, and ventured deeper into the wilderness until they reached a clearing that ended in a solid wall of rock and trees.

"A dead end," Luca exclaimed. "Figuratively and literally." They caught their breaths in the glade as they considered what to do. Before long, they heard voices.

"Run!" Nadia shouted as she dashed into the heart of the glade, and took a new path.

As Crono ran without looking back, he felt his chest constrict in pain, and didn't know how long his friends could outrun their pursuers or even where they could flee. The forest deepened, and the roads disappeared beneath their feet as the floor of the woodlands darkened with each step they made towards the east.

At first Crono thought he imagined it, but the shadows of the forest seemed to swirl with blue. Lunaria remained sheathed so he knew the light originated from somewhere else. The thunderous footfalls of the storming squadron continued as the two girls ran ahead while the boys trailed, and shouts dogged them each moment of their harrowing flight. The ring of swords, spears and clinking armor pierced the silence, and grimly reminded them of their deathly fate should the guardsmen catch up.

"Over here!" Crysta exclaimed, then quickly guided them into a narrow path where they might hide.

"There they are!" the soldiers shouted. "Don't lose them!"

Stray branches whipped at Crono in willowy strikes as he unconsciously took the lead. A sudden tingle of fear wormed into his heart as he recognized this as the location of his nightmare. This familiar landscape of blackened trees loomed before him in stark lines against the pale skies of dawn. Here he witnessed his father's murder. It seemed somehow cruel that the whims of fate led him back to the place where he should have died a decade ago.

Yet . . . Crono stormed on, and remembered he had prevailed against the impossible when his father fell. "I will fight as strongly as I did that day," he softly whispered as he unsheathed Lunaria, and promised to protect his friends. "All of us will survive."

The route abruptly led into a clearing, but beyond lay trees and a river too wide to cross. The intertwined oaks grew so tightly in this region only a squirrel seemed capable of navigating them.

"No!" Luca shouted. "We're trapped!" They heard the pounding steps of the large squadron as the soldiers cut through the trees in a wall of swords and shields, and jogged across the grounds. Soon armored knights filled the clearing. Crono hatefully glared as the chancellor appeared, and sensed his innate demon abilities allowed him to keep up with the knights. Crono knew if he killed anyone today it would be that monster. Luca readied his guns while the girls raised their weapons, and the silence deepened as each side stared down the other.

"It ends here, boy!" the chancellor said to Crono. "Embrace your death!"

Nadia drew forth an arrow, nocked it, then fired at the old man, but missed his face by scant inches. "Go fall in a hole and rot there, you old fossil! We fight until death!"

"I don't think there's a need for that," Crono stated as he suddenly realized the source of the blue light through the forest, and stared at the ground. A smile crossed his face.

Luca caught sight of the same thing, and stepped forward in wonder. "No . . . it can't be! That's impossible! I destroyed the Telepod! That shouldn't exist!"

"A gate!" Nadia exclaimed. For above the forest earth glimmered the small spherical blue tear of reality. They had found another gateway through time. "Please tell me you have the Gatekey, Luca," Nadia asked the inventor.

Luca reached into his pocket, pulled out the timeline key, then shook his head in stunned realization. "I never destroyed the Gatekey. Could that be why the gates remain?"

"What is that?" the chancellor demanded.

"Good, let's use it to escape!" Nadia stated. "Only the gate can save us!"

"What are you talking about?" Crysta asked. "What gate?"

"But we don't know where it will take us," Luca argued, and ignored Crysta for now. Only by opening the portal could he hope to answer her question.

"Who cares?" Nadia shouted. "Anywhere's better than here! And we don't have any time to choose!"

The soldiers advanced. "Attack!" the chancellor yelled. "Kill them now!"

"Luca!" Crono screamed, and lifted Lunaria. "Decide now! Use the Gatekey! We have no other choice!" The soldiers charged across the grass, and shouted in victory.

But Luca Devir's timing perfectly arrived. The events echoed like a faraway memory the moment Luca closed his eyes against the blades that arrived to kill him as he brought forth the Gatekey.

As the soldiers charged in, time slowed to a crawl, and life seemed to fall away beneath a curtain of blue light that cloaked the forest before their eyes. Voices cried out from the mysterious portal, and echoed in their minds as though to silence the events of earth. A spear lanced through the air, and impaled Crysta's heart, but it careened away from the vortex the moment it struck her skin as she ceased to exist in that one moment, and simply vanished. Crono closed his eyes against the feeling of falling off the edge of the world, and the harsh embrace of timeless wind rushed over him as he felt Nadia take his hand. Then the forest gateway closed around them with blue light that shone greater than dawn as Crono Zenan and his friends exited the glade and disappeared into time.


End file.
